


Nollywood

by AOO



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Wives No Kids, Angst, Brother Feels, Calle? Magnus? Later - Maybe, Danger, Family Drama, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Violence, at first...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 115,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOO/pseuds/AOO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d had an idea. A little Nollywood segment, where they would try to enter the Nigerian film industry and be cast in a movie… in a week. If only he had told Vegard about what he’d found online. But, really, what were the odds that anyone would kidnap them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea after seeing an interview in which they said that they originally looked at going to Nigeria, because Nollywood was the biggest movie market in Africa. But there were a lot of abductions there and they didn’t want to take a chance. So instead they focused on Swahiliwood in Tanzania. But what if they hadn’t?
> 
> Here's the link, in case you're curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdnbKM2Hv-8
> 
> Obviously, this is a work of fiction - with fictional characters - none of it has happened - ever.

He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He had promised Vegard that he would keep going, keep trying to get out no matter what, but he hadn’t seen Vegard in weeks now. He was afraid that Vegard was dead. And if his brother was dead, he really didn’t want to get out of this alive either.

 

He held his head in his hands. How had it come to this? They'd had an idea to do a week of filming in Nigeria for their show. A little Nollywood segment where they would try to enter the Nigerian film industry and get cast in a movie. It was a silly idea, they’d actually talked about doing something like this last year, but they’d ended up focusing on music when they did Big in Kyrgyzstan.

 

If only he had told Vegard about what he’d found online. Of course, he’d known that Vegard would never approve of the idea after he had that information, so he had decided to sit on it. After all, what were the odds that they’d actually be kidnapped? They were only going to be there for a week.

 

He closed his eyes and remembered how it all began...

 

 

* * *

 

 

Everything had fallen into place for them, as if it were meant to be. Mikael, a producer on one of the popular reality shows at TVNorge, had a contact in Nigeria named Ngozi. Mikael had told them that he and Ngozi had gone to school together and were still close friends. That explained the amount of attention Ngozi gave them when they arrived.  Bård’s comment was that Ngozi treated them like the king and queen of Norway, pointing to himself and then his brother as he said it. Vegard laughed, apparently deciding to let that one slip by, perhaps thinking that otherwise it was going to be a very long week. Ngozi greeted them at the airport and made sure that they found their rental van, which he had helped to arrange for the week. He had also insisted that TVNorge hire a bodyguard for them, and had helped to find their bodyguard, Jumoke, through a security service.

 

That was one of their first surprises about Nigeria, it wasn’t that unusual to have a bodyguard. Bård, who hadn’t been aware that they were going to have one, wondered aloud if they could have saved TVNorge some money and just brought Magnus along. That earned him a gentle cuff to the back of his head from his older brother. Their friend and co-worker, Magnus, had the height and broad shoulders of a bodyguard, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Seriously, Bård had to go into Magnus's office just last week to kill a spider. Vegard laughed and shook his head. “Magnus? We might as well be protected by a pack of puppies.”

 

He and Vegard were standing around the luggage carousel waiting for his bag. Ngozi was sitting by the bags that they’d already found. “Well, he could be armed with his horn. That would repel everyone within at least a one block radius.”

 

“Including anyone who might consider putting us in a movie.” Vegard had found his bag right away, but a number of their group’s other bags, including Bård’s, were missing.

 

“Good point.” Bård sighed, as the carousel stopped turning and there was still no sign of his bag. “I may have to wear your clothes.” He grinned and looked to see his brother’s reaction. He knew Vegard often accused him of looking for any excuse to “borrow” his clothes.

 

Vegard chose to overlook that comment. “I can’t believe you’d speak that way about Magnus. I may have to tell him.” He was shaking his head in mock disappointment.

 

“Oh, come on, I love him. You know that. Besides, I’ve seen you giggle at his playing before. Like a couple weeks ago, when we were practicing in my office.”

 

“As you just said, he wasn’t playing alone. How do you know which one of you I was laughing at?”

 

Bård was only able to maintain a hurt expression for a second before he started laughing. It was fun to get out of the office and do these expeditions. There were expectations, of course, they had a lot to get done in a week. But there was so much more time for Vegard and him to goof around together. It felt less like they were business partners and more like they were just brothers again.

 

The cameraman was already filming everything. You never knew when something funny might happen. Vegard took a second to ask Anders if his mic had picked that up. Anders was the sound guy on this trip. It was his first big opportunity at TVNorge and he was excited about it. He was only 25 years old and was very eager to learn. Anders nodded, indicating that he had been able to hear them. Vegard laughed and told him that he could just answer out loud, they’d edit it out. They walked away from the luggage carousel and sat next to Ngozi in a row of hard, plastic chairs to wait.

 

Their cameraman, Lars, was somewhat the opposite of Anders. Mid-fifties, very experienced, and pretty laid back. Whereas Anders was six feet tall and youthfully thin, Lars was about five foot seven and, not fat but, definitely barrel chested. And while Lars was blond with a full beard, Anders had dark, straight hair and it wasn’t clear if he had much facial hair at all yet.  

 

It was obvious that Anders was going to get on Lars’ nerves at some point during the week, that was something that Bård and Vegard had chuckled about during the long flight. In fact, he had already made an over/under bet with his brother about when that would happen. Today was Sunday, so they decided to bet on Lars losing his patience (as far as Anders was concerned) either before or after noon on Wednesday. Bård had taken "before", figuring that Anders was just so peppy that he himself might be annoyed by then. Vegard was happy to take "after", knowing that Lars was a very nice guy who actually had kids about Anders’ age. He was sure Lars would easily make it past Wednesday at noon.

 

The fifth person in their group was their director, Liam. He was in his mid-forties or so, and had moved to Oslo a couple of years ago after marrying a Norwegian woman, Grete. Liam had many directing credits in Sweden and had done well at TVNorge since moving to Norway, but had never worked with Ylvis before. He had been a last minute substitution after the director they had originally hired had come down with appendicitis and was admitted to the hospital. Liam came with many recommendations, but Bård and Vegard were a little nervous about how it would be to work with him.

 

After a long wait, Liam finally rejoined their little group. He had been busily trying to track down their luggage for at least thirty minutes, so when he somewhat triumphantly returned with every lost bag in tow, the brothers gave him a standing ovation and then told Ngozi that they were ready to go.

 

Everyone - including Ngozi, who wanted to go with them to the hotel to make sure they got checked in alright - climbed into the van with Lars behind the wheel. Jumoke was going to meet them at the hotel because, it seemed, Ngozi wanted to take care of them for a while. That intentionally planned hole in the security made Bård laugh. “We absolutely need protection but, of course, no one will attack us from here to the hotel.” When he said that, Vegard gave him an elbow to the ribs and a look that actually did shut him up for a couple of minutes.

 

Finally, Bård whispered to his brother, “What was that for?” They were seated next to each other, on the bench seat, in the middle of the van.

 

“We shouldn’t insult him - he’s done a lot for us.” Vegard gave him a rather annoyed look, instead of the contrite one he had hoped for. “Sometimes I can’t take you anywhere."

 

“Well, the jokes on you. You practically have to take me everywhere.” Bård turned his head to look out the window and pout a bit. Vegard thought that was funny and started giggling which, in turn, caused Bård to start laughing too.

 

They arrived at the hotel quickly, after only about ten minutes, which was more than fine with everyone since they’d just traveled for over twenty hours to get there. "There" was Enugu, Nigeria, which they had read was the city where much of Nollywood was centered. They checked into the hotel without any problems and were anxious to get to their rooms but, before they were able to say their goodbyes, Ngozi pulled them aside to talk. He wanted to introduce them to their bodyguard, Jumoke.

 

At first glance, Jumoke looked pretty intimidating. He was six foot-four with broad shoulders, a shaved head and an old, but prominent, scar on his right cheek that gave him a don’t-mess-with-me vibe. But, as they talked to him, it was obvious he was a gentle giant. He was twenty-eight years old and was working as a bodyguard to save up money for school. He was planning to go college to become a primary school teacher.

 

Bård looked at Vegard with his eyebrows raised, teasingly mouthing, “I told you, we should have just brought Magnus.”

 

After introductions with Jumoke had been completed, the crew started making movements to head up to their rooms. Bård went over to Ngozi to thank him for everything he’d done for them and to say goodbye, but Ngozi was not ready to go and was very excited to take them to meet someone else. It was obvious that everyone needed to rest for a while, so Bård tried to politely explain that to Ngozi. Vegard joined the conversation and the best they were able to do was to put Ngozi off for a few hours. It was already almost three in the afternoon. Ngozi insisted that he at least be allowed to take everyone out for dinner. He really would not take no for an answer. So even though he and Vegard were certain that everyone would rather have a quick, simple dinner and go to bed, they agreed to meet in the lobby at six.

 

Bård nudged Vegard and nodded his head toward Jumoke. “What do we do with our bodyguard? I don’t want to bring him up to our room and have him sit in a corner.”

 

“I’m sure that’s not his idea of fun either. Although, I’m really not sure what we’re supposed to do with him.” After they explained their plans to Jumoke, he told them that normally he would just wait in the lobby. They were both somewhat relieved to hear that. They gathered their bags and were heading to the elevators when Jumoke, already seated in a comfortable chair, politely added that they should call him if they needed anything.

 

Vegard opened their hotel room door, dropped his bag on the floor and walked over to the window to check out their view.  It wasn’t anything lovely, but at least they were on the front of the hotel, facing the street. Bård immediately flopped on the first available flat surface, which fortunately was a bed.

 

“I’m taking a nap.” Bård was on his stomach, his eyes already closed.

 

Vegard turned from the window and looked at his brother stretched out on the bed that was closest to the door. “How is it? Comfortable?”

 

“Not really. The bed is hard and my pillow is flat. But I’m so tired that I don’t care.”

 

Vegard sat on his bed. The springs creaked. He laid back and tried to get comfortable. “You’re right, it’s pretty stiff.” Bård heard him, but couldn’t manage an answer. He was already drifting off.

 

Two and a half hours later Bård woke to Vegard’s phone alarm. Bård had changed the ringtone to an eight second section of Harlem Shake two days ago, when Vegard had run out of the office to get them some food and had forgotten to take his phone with him. Bård had thought that Vegard would be baffled (and hopefully annoyed) by the change, but hadn’t thought about the possibility that he himself might have to wake to it. “Vegard. Turn off your alarm.” There was no response, so he spoke a little louder. “Vegard! At least hit the snooze.” There was still no response, only the electronic beat on an endless loop. - dit dit dit dit dee, dit dit dee , dit dit dee, dit dit  - Bård was rethinking the wisdom of his little joke. “Vegard!” Bård rolled out of bed and started shaking Vegard. He couldn’t believe the alarm hadn’t woken his brother and it was about that moment that he had a passing thought of _I hope he isn’t dead or something_. He wasn’t.

 

“Bård! What the fuck!?” Vegard suddenly woke up and started flailing his arms. He had no idea what was going on. “What is that?” He was looking for the source of the annoying sound and found it was his own phone. He managed to silence it and then looked at his brother with one raised eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you know anything about this?”

 

“Me? That really isn’t my favorite song. I’m kind of surprised you’d put it on your phone.” Bård was laughing and moved away quickly to avoid a slap to his arm.

 

“Idiot!” He was trying to look mad, but Bård noticed that he was starting to smile. Vegard rubbed his face trying to wake up. He looked like he could have easily slept until the next morning and Bård wished again that they could have gotten out of dinner with Ngozi.

 

“Come on. It’s almost six.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When they came down to the lobby, Jumoke was sitting in the same chair, with a pencil and a book of sudoku puzzles sitting in his lap. He looked up as Bård approached him. “How was your nap?”

 

“Way too short. How was everything here? Did you protect us from marauders?”

 

Jumoke grinned. “Just one.”

 

Bård smiled back. He’d been a little unsure of having an extra person in their group, but he was starting to think that he was going to like Jumoke.

 

Their new friend, Ngozi, was already waiting for them and after a few minutes the rest of their crew gathered in the lobby. Just before they started to walk to the restaurant, Ngozi told the brothers that they would be meeting an agent friend of his. They were excited to be making a contact so quickly, but everyone was hungry and tired from travelling, and he and Vegard knew that this would mean that their crew would have to watch them eat while they filmed the meeting. It wasn't ideal. Bård pulled Liam aside and explained the situation. The tall Swede paused for a moment and then said that they’d suck it up and do it, but he and Anders and Lars were going to have whatever they wanted to eat and drink when they were done. Bård thought that seemed like a reasonable request.

 

The restaurant was noisy and full of diners. Ngozi’s agent friend was already at the table. Ngozi introduced him as Okpara, but he immediately interrupted Ngozi. “Ngozi, you know that I’m Eli to my friends. Your friends are my friends.” When Vegard asked him why he went by that name, Eli said that he had always liked the old Three Dog Night song Eli’s Coming, and then he added with a huge smile that he himself was a heartbreaker, just like in the song. Eli wasn’t totally unfortunate looking, but he wasn’t particularly good looking either. Bård found Eli’s self-proclaimed heartbreaker status to be quite funny and put his head down to hide his chuckles. A swift kick in the shin - under the table from Vegard - supplied enough pain to rid him of the giggles, at least for the moment. He tried to return the favor, but his brother had gotten his legs out of the way, fully expecting the retaliation.

 

Eli turned out to be a pleasant surprise because he spoke english, which most of their viewers would understand, and because he was funny. He ended up spending a lot of time with the brothers in those first two days. He said that he wasn’t very busy, a few meetings had been canceled and they could have his full attention. But Bård had thought it was because he liked the idea of being on TV. It didn’t really matter why, the fact was that Eli was funny and would be good TV.

 

The dinner went well, with lots of laughing and a little too much drinking. Ngozi really wanted to show them a good time, and he did. By the end of the evening Eli had agreed to be their agent and to help them find their way into a movie this week. They made plans to meet up in the morning and then tried to cut the dinner short, partly so that Liam, Anders and Lars could eat.

 

The brothers said their goodbyes to Ngozi and Eli and, deciding to leave the rest of their crew to their own devices, walked the short, half-a-block back to the hotel with Jumoke in tow. He accompanied them to their room and even went in first, to make sure it was safe. Bård had leaned against the wall in the hallway, waiting for the green light. His head was spinning a bit from the drinks and he forced himself to keep his eyes open, because it was much worse when they were closed. Thankfully, Vegard didn’t say anything. Most likely he wasn’t feeling a whole lot better. Not long after Jumoke told them it was safe, they were in their room, fast asleep.

 

The next morning, Bård recalled giggling in his dream as half a dozen golden retriever puppies licked his face. But then, as the dream continued, the puppies turned into his guard puppies and each one had a face like Magnus.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know... the way I envision this story, I need to have a lot of extra characters, which is an element that you guys may or may not find interesting (especially as a fanfic). We shall see. I'm always interested in your feedback.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning came more quickly than either of them would have liked. Vegard forgot to change his alarm sound and so they were awakened to more of Harlem Shake’s techno beat.

 

Bård groaned loudly. “Turn it off!!”

 

Vegard struggled to find the phone on his nightstand. “It’s your own fault.”

 

“Don’t let it play so long.” Bård tried to open his eyes but the light coming through the curtain was too bright. He pinched his eyes shut and wished he hadn’t let Ngozi talk him into another round of drinks last night. He heard Vegard up and moving around, and braced himself for the sound of his brother’s voice telling him to get up as well.

 

Instead, he heard Vegard speaking quietly, almost whispering. “Here. Sit up.”

 

Bård felt his bed sink from the weight of his brother sitting on the edge. He opened his eyes and saw a glass of water and what looked like two pain pills being held out for him. He managed to sit up and swallow the medicine. “Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome. Lay down. I’ll take the first shower. Maybe you’ll feel better by then.” He’d rolled over, gratefully, for what turned out to be another half hour. Vegard let him sleep as long as possible, so when he was finally nudged awake, he’d had to get ready in a rush. But that was a small price to pay for a little more rest. As they left their room and walked to the elevator, Bård noticed that Vegard looked a little under the weather himself.

 

“Are you ok? Do you have a headache?”

 

“Yeah, but I took some medicine too. I’ll be fine.”

 

When they got down to the lobby, they were struck by the realization that the rest of their crew was in much worse shape than they were. The three of them hadn’t even started eating until after the dinner with Ngozi and Eli was over and then they had continued to drink on TVNorge’s krone for well into the night. Lars looked… well, he just looked scary. Bård was going to give him a wide berth until later in the day. It did make him smile a little when he thought of his bet with Vegard. Today could very well be the day that Lars blew up at Anders. Two days ahead of schedule.  Anders did look a little hung over, but he had youth on his side and didn’t really seem tired at all. It was possible that Lars would hate him for that alone. The odds of winning this bet were looking very good indeed.

 

Liam was putting up a good front, but Vegard recognized the look on his face as being that of someone suffering from a headache. He went back to their room to grab the over-the-counter pain meds from his bag and Liam gratefully accepted them when they were offered.

 

The only one in their group that looked particularly enthusiastic about being up that morning was Jumoke. He’d had the good sense (and sense of duty) to turn down any alcohol last night, so he was smiling when the brothers joined the rest of their group in the hotel lobby. “Good morning Mr. Ylvis.”

 

“Jumoke, I told you to call me Bård.”

 

“Good morning, Mr. Bård.” He smiled, teasingly.

 

Bård rolled his eyes.  “Just Bård, if you don’t mind. I see you’re doing sudoku again today.”

 

“Oh, yes. I think it keeps my mind sharp. Do you play sudoku?”

 

He glanced at the page Jumoke was working on and saw it was one of the more challenging ones. “No, it’s not my thing. But you should see Vegard, he’s really good at it. You guys should have a contest.”  

 

“Bård. Let’s go.” Bård looked over and saw that Eli had arrived.

 

“We’ll talk later.” He and Jumoke joined the rest of the group and piled into the van. Now that there were seven of them it was a bit cramped. Eli wanted to sit in front to give directions and Lars had gone directly to the driver’s seat and gotten in. Bård glanced at his brother, wondering if he was going to challenge Lars for the right to drive, but clearly Vegard didn’t have a death wish today and had decided to let Lars be. Vegard sat on the middle seat and Bård sat next to him.This left Liam, Anders and Jumoke to cram into the back seat. It was wasn’t so much too narrow as that there was no leg room to speak of, and they were the three tallest members of their group. After a bit of jostling and complaining, they seemed to work it out.

 

While they were driving around town that day, Eli was constantly pointing out local points of interest. Except that they weren’t your typical points of interest. “That’s the building that my cousin got arrested outside of for being a Peeping Tom.” (According to Eli, eventually the charges were dropped.)  “And over there is the tree under which I had my first kiss.” Every place they went was accompanied by a running commentary of how it had played a role in his life. At the end of each day, they played back some of what they’d caught on film for the day. And each time, there was a lot of laughter after Eli’s comments. It was always a good sign if the film crew laughed.

 

After Eli took them to his favorite breakfast cafe’, he brought them to meet Boseda Oni. He was a producer with a number of popular Nollywood hits to his credit. Bo, which was what he went by, wanted to show them some of his previous work so they spent over half an hour looking at movie posters and reviews and articles, and then the better part of an hour watching his most successful movie. It was in english, as most Nollywood movies are, but Bård and Vegard had a hard time understanding the appeal of the plot, what little plot there was. It was campy and full of lowbrow humor. Still, they only had a week to do this, so they couldn’t be choosy. Bård asked if they could stop the movie. He had seen enough. He decided to take his best shot at stroking Bo’s ego. “Bo, this movie is great. I can see why it did so well, but maybe we could talk about what Vegard and I need to do next.”  

 

“Yes, what do you think about casting us in a movie?” Vegard followed his lead, hoping to get things moving.

 

Bo started laughing. “I don’t think you understand how Nollywood works. You need to join a theater group. That is where producers find their actors here. I couldn’t possibly hire you before you’d done that.”

 

“But couldn’t you make an exception?” Vegard smiled, trying his best to charm Bo into helping them.

 

“No, it’s the way things are done. You should probably have some photos taken so that you have something to give to movie producers.”

 

It was a tense ride to the photography studio. Bård was irritated that Eli had taken them to meet Bo when he knew what the process was but, still hoping that Eli could be of help to them, he bit his tongue. Eli pointed out the house of the man who had sold him his first car and the place where there used to be a tree, the tree he’d fallen out of as a boy and broken his wrist. Lars was driving and politely nodding his head at the appropriate times (and covertly shooting daggers at Eli with his eyes) as Eli continued his egocentric travelogue from the front passenger seat.

 

Vegard had made a comment to Bård as they got into the van, that he was supposed to have researched the process before they got to Africa and now they’d wasted half a day on nothing. Bård sat in silence for the entire ride, looking out the window. It was true that he was supposed to have done that, but he’d been getting other things ready for the trip. He’d been planning on doing that research last night, but then Ngozi had introduced them to Eli at dinner and he’d trusted their new agent to know how things worked.

 

The van stopped in front of the photo studio and as Lars got the camera ready and Anders got set, Vegard pulled him to the side. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m… just sorry.”

 

“That’s ok.” He was looking down, kicking the dirt road and after a minute he had to ask, “Are you sorry, or do you just want me to smile for my photos?”

 

Vegard smiled and amiably leaned into him a bit. “Come on. If we get these done quickly we can still get to a theater group today.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrived back at the hotel late in the afternoon, everyone was tired and hungry. The visit to the theater group had been successful and they had been invited to join. As they got out of the van, he and Vegard said goodbye to Eli and made plans to see him again the next morning. The rest of the crew split off on their own for a while. Anders went off in search of food, even though they were all going to dinner together in a little over an hour. Lars didn’t say where he was going, but he seemed to be heading straight to the hotel bar. Liam still had a headache and went to his room for a nap. Bård and Vegard went up to their room to relax for a bit.

 

There weren’t very many channels on their TV. Bård had flipped through them all twice already, as if somehow the second time around the dial would be different. He readjusted his pillow so that he could see the screen more comfortably and started flipping through the channels again. “I really thought I might win our bet today. Lars looked pretty rough this morning.”

 

Vegard smiled at him. He was laying on his bed and playing some game on his phone. “Today may have been your best chance. That guy is a saint. He didn’t even tell Eli to shut up after the third ‘former girlfriend’s house’ we passed.”

 

“Yeah. I wonder if he points out his former girlfriend’s houses when he’s on a date.” It was hard to believe that Eli had any kind of filter.

 

“That’s why I started filming him from my seat in the van.”

 

“‘That’s where my football team won the championship,’” Bård was doing his Eli impersonation. “‘That’s where my sister fell off her bike’, ’That’s where my favorite chicken died after getting hit in the street.’” He started chuckling. “I wondered if his sister fell off her bike after running over the chicken.”

 

They were both laughing now. “I know. I wondered how you would decide which chicken was your favorite.”

 

“I would have thought by a taste test.” Bård enjoyed watching his brother’s reaction to that, throwing his head back as he laughed.

 

“I’m glad you’re getting this out of your system now, while Eli’s not with us.”

 

“Aren’t you proud of me?” He was grinning cheekily.

 

“You have no idea.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They met up with their crew and Jumoke in the lobby. Anders looked to be his bouncy self and was happily telling Jumoke about his last vacation. Lars was sitting in a comfortable chair as far away from other people as possible. Liam arrived at the lobby a few moments behind them. He was looking more himself and when he smiled he didn’t look like his eyes were wincing anymore. They decided to go back to the restaurant from last night, the food was good and it was close to the hotel so they could each head back to their rooms whenever they wanted to.

 

Anders shared a number of stories about his brothers and himself during dinner. It turned out that he was also one of three boys, but he was the youngest in his family. One weekend when his parents’ were called away on a family matter his oldest brother Jonas had been left in charge. Jonas had been looking forward to snowboarding that weekend, but now that their parents had to leave it seemed like their ski trip was canceled. However, Jonas wasn’t willing to give up that easily so, even though he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, he drove himself and his brothers from their home in Stavanger to the ski resort, Alsheia, which was an hour and a half away. Jonas managed to drive them there and back with only one minor incident - the scratch on the car was barely visible. Karl, the middle brother, fell on his last run and sprained his knee but was trying valiantly to hide it from their parents. A couple days had passed and it seemed that they had gotten away with it but Anders was riddled with guilt and couldn’t keep the secret. He said that his brothers didn’t talk to him for a month after that; partly because, since he was the youngest, he didn’t get punished.

 

Vegard laughed and said, “Stupid little brothers.” He then looked at Bård.

 

“Yeah.” Bård laughed and then caught his brother’s meaning. “What, me? I thought you were talking about Bjarte!”

 

Bård and Vegard were enjoying themselves a lot. Anders’ stories brought to mind many of their own stories of brotherly hijinx. Unfortunately, they had to get a skit together for their theater group tomorrow, so after dinner they made their excuses and went back to their room. Jumoke walked them back to the hotel again, and then said goodnight once he was sure that they were safe for the evening.

 

“‘Stupid little brothers, huh?” Bård looked at Vegard disapprovingly.

 

“I was strictly talking about Anders’ story.” His smirk told a different story.

 

“Alright, a skit. What should it be about?” Bård was pacing around the room. Vegard was sitting on his bed with a pad of paper and a pen.

 

“I think we should be on safari.”

 

“Ok. And…” Bård stopped his pacing to listen.

 

“I could be a great hunter and you could be… the lion I shoot.” Vegard smiled.

 

“I get to be dead?” Bård giggled as he said that. “It seems like a skit that would end quickly.”

 

Vegard was reconsidering the suggestion. “Maybe not. I’d have to carry the whole thing.”

 

Bård rolled his eyes.

 

“I probably will have to anyway.” Vegard smirked and looked up for a reaction.

 

“Maybe we could be a husband and wife who were going on safari. You know, as tourists.”

 

“Alright. I call being the man.” Vegard laughed and started writing something.

 

“It’s sad that you have to call it.” Bård sat down across from him.

 

“It’s troubling that you’re so comfortable being the woman.”

 

They worked on the skit for a while, managing to write something they were fairly happy with in less than half an hour. They spent the next hour working on their lines. Eventually, Vegard was acting out the skit, but Bård was lying down on his bed, saying his lines with his eyes closed. He had crawled onto the bed on the pretense that it was part of the skit, but then he had remained there for the next ten minutes.

 

“Seriously, Bård. Get up. Let’s do this skit one more time and then go to bed.”

 

“I’m visualizing my performance.” Bård opened his eyes and sleepily looked at his brother.

 

Vegard smiled. He usually thought his brother was funny, even when he sort of wanted to wring his neck. “Oh? And how are you doing?”

 

“I’m nailing it.” There was a self-satisfied smirk on his brother’s face.

 

“Oh, good. What about me?”

 

“Eh...  You need more practice.” He covered his face just in time to catch the pillow that was flying his way. “Don't attack me, I'm the one who's carrying this performance.”

 

“Yeah. In your head. I don’t think we’ll be able to fit the entire theater group in there.”

 

“It’s their loss.”

 

“Come on. One time.” Vegard reached his hand out to his brother who reluctantly grabbed it and allowed himself to be pulled to standing.

.

 

* * *

 

 

Tuesday morning started much the same as Monday, although at least they weren’t both hungover. “Vegard! Why do you still have that song on your alarm?”

 

Last night Vegard had remembered the stupid ringtone when he was checking his phone to make sure his alarm was set. He had started to change it but then, remembering how annoyed Bård seemed to be by it, he decided to leave it alone. _Serves him right for messing with my phone._

 

“Hmm? What?” Vegard intended to drag this out as long as possible.

 

“The alarm! Turn it off!” Bård was hoping to roll over for a few more minutes of sleep.

 

“I’m not sure...where is it?” He had already grabbed the phone off the nightstand and was holding it in his hand. He was enjoying the frustrated grumbles coming from the other side of the room.

 

“Oh! For cryin’ out loud…” Bård rolled out of bed and started crawling across Vegard’s bed hoping to find the offending phone on the far nightstand and silence it. Possibly permanently.

 

Vegard started laughing as he felt Bård’s knee crush his leg. “Ow! What are you doing? Stay on your side of the room!”

 

“Where’s your phone?” Bård climbed over his brother only to find nothing on the nightstand.

 

“My what? Get off of me!” Vegard still wanted to see how far he could push Bård, but was finding it difficult to control his giggles.

 

“Your pho… Oh!” Bård finally caught on. “You jerk! Where is it? You’re hiding it!!” He sat on his brother to keep him from getting away.

 

“I thought you liked this song. You chose it!” The look of determination on his brother’s face would have been frightening if he hadn’t known that Bård wouldn’t actually hurt him.

 

“Give it to me!” They struggled over control of the phone, Vegard holding it tightly in both hands and Bård trying to pry his fingers off of it one by one.

 

“No!” His laughter seemed to drain him of some of his strength and Bård managed to get control of the insolent piece of technology.

 

“Ha!” Bård held his prize high above his head.

 

His brother’s overblown pride in his conquest, made him laugh some more. “Good for you, now get off of me!” He continued laughing as Bård intentionally kneed him in the process of getting off of the bed.

 

“You ruined my favorite part of sleeping: the last few minutes after hitting the snooze.” He sat down on his own bed looking a little tired after the aerobics that silencing the alarm had turned into.

 

“Oh. I’m so sorry. How rude of me to mess with you. Who does that??” Vegard got up and shoved Bård in the shoulder, the latter allowing himself to fall back on his bed. “Don’t do anything to my phone while I’m in the shower.”

 

The bathroom door closed and Bård could hear the water starting to run. He would have to do something else to his brother’s phone. But right now, he just wanted to close his eyes for a few more minutes.

 

He woke to someone nudging his leg. He had drifted off to sleep in the same position that he had collapsed onto the bed, on his back with his feet flat on the floor. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. I can’t believe you fell asleep again.” The nudging stopped.

 

Bård opened his eyes and saw his brother, wrapped in a towel, rummaging through his backpack. “Uh, excuse me? Can I help you find something?”

 

“You drew blood.” Vegard raised his hand to show the blood dripping down his ring finger. “I thought you had something in here for that.”

 

“Yeah, there is.” He sighed as he forced himself to sit up and then stand. “I think it’s in an outside pocket.” Vegard stepped aside and allowed Bård to find the supplies and then wrap the small wound. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

“It was worth it.” Vegard started laughing again. “The look on your face when you realized that I was holding it… priceless!”

 

“Happy to please.” Bård smiled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this. I'd love to know what you think about it.


	3. Chapter 3

The only person in the lobby when Bård and Vegard stepped off the elevator was Jumoke. He was always so prompt that he gave the impression of having been there all night (except for the fact that he was showered and shaved and in clean clothes).

 

“Good morning, Mr. Vegard.”

 

Vegard considered correcting him again, telling him that calling him by his first name alone was what he wanted, but decided against it. “Good morning, Jumoke.” Jumoke seemed to be comfortable with that form of address and they were guests in his country, so he decided he might as well nod to their customs.

 

“Did you wake up to the sun this morning?” Jumoke’s smile was warm and inviting.

 

“No, Jumoke. I woke up to a stupid song that my idiot little brother put on my phone.”

 

Bård had just walked over to join them after speaking briefly to the woman at the front desk.

 

“Jumoke, don’t listen to him. He loves that song, otherwise he would have changed it.”

 

“Mr. Bård, you don’t like to torment your kind, older brother, do you?”

 

Bård couldn’t help laughing at that. It hit pretty close to home. “No! Of course not.” His laughter belied his words.

 

“‘No, of course not.’ I have a little brother too, Mr. Vegard. I know how they can be.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head toward Bård.

 

Vegard was loving this. “See? Jumoke understands my pain.”

 

“Oh, what pain? That little nick from my fingernail?”

 

“You know what pain.” He dramatically put his hand over his heart. “My deep emotional pain caused by your treatment of me.”

 

“Awww. Do you need a hug?”

 

“No! I really do not.” Vegard held both arms out just in case Bård was considering following through on the “offer”.

 

“Mr. Bård, you should appreciate the brother you have.”

 

“Oh, I do.” He looked at Vegard and was unable to keep a straight face. “He already knows. I think he prefers me to leave it unsaid. It’s less embarrassing.”

 

Vegard shook his head, a huge smile on his face.

 

“Jumoke. Do you have your sudoku book with you? Could I borrow it?” Jumoke handed the book to Bård, who immediately went over to the woman at the front desk.

 

“It looks like you and Mr. Bård enjoy each other. No?”

 

Vegard smiled. “Yeah... I suppose I could have done worse.”

 

At that moment the rest of their crew came down on the elevator together. Anders had a big smile on his face and was talking a mile a minute to Lars and Liam. Liam was looking amused and engaged, Lars looked like he wished he had taken the stairs. Within a few minutes Eli had arrived and they all piled into the van, into what now were sort of their “assigned seats”.

 

Bård nudged Vegard, who was next to him in the middle of the van, and whispered to him. “Did you see how annoyed Lars looked this morning? I think today is my day.”

 

“I’ve got my eye on you Ylvisåker. No helping it along.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The large room where the theater group met was loud with various unrelated conversations and nervous, last-minute rehearsing by a few of the participants. The look Vegard gave him reminded Bård that they were to have gone over their skit one more time that morning. He tried to deflect it with a totally baseless accusatory look of his own.

 

It wasn’t his fault that they hadn’t rehearsed, except for the fact that he and Anders had left the cafe’, when everyone was close to being done with breakfast, to get a cup of really good coffee at a place Anders had found. Eli’s favorite breakfast place had good food but the coffee was barely more than brownish water. The coffee at this other cafe was just as Anders had promised, it was strong and smooth and definitely worthy of being called coffee. But Anders was wrong about it only being a short walk away, and it had taken them close to twenty-five minutes to walk there and back with the flavourful brew, rather than the ten minutes they had promised the rest of the group. At least they had brought back coffee for the others, except for Eli - who obviously had no concept of what really good coffee should taste like - and Vegard - who had never developed much of a taste for the stuff.

 

“I hope that coffee was really good.” Anders and Lars were getting their equipment ready. Vegard noticed that Lars looked really annoyed at Anders now, but he still was counting on Lars’ patience to help him win the bet.

 

“It was. Too bad you don’t appreciate really good coffee.”

 

“Yeah, well, I do appreciate good TV. This skit isn’t just for the theater group, it might end up on our show.”

 

“Well, don’t mess it up then.” Bård caught his brother laughing out of the corner of his eye.

 

The theater group started at 10 am sharp and they spent the first hour doing improv games and other warm ups. Then they all sat down and watched as small groups perform their skits. Bård and Vegard didn’t notice when Bo arrived and sat down in the back next to Eli. They didn’t even notice him when they went up to do their skit.

 

It was already past noon when it was their turn to do their skit. The skit went well enough. It seemed that Bård’s visualization technique hadn’t been entirely a scam, because it had given him a few good ideas - some bits of physical comedy -  which their audience ate up. However, the humor in their dialogue seemed to go mostly unappreciated - other than one, unplanned, line of Vegard’s which brought down the house.

 

“Vegard, I loved your adlib.” They had just returned to their seats and another group was getting ready to perform.

 

“I forgot my line.” He smiled a little sheepishly.

 

“I know, but that was the funniest part of the whole skit.” Bård started chuckling again.

 

Eli came up from behind them and tapped Vegard’s shoulder. “Come with me. Bo is here.”

 

Vegard nudged Bård and indicated that he should follow. They both followed Eli outside of the building, trailed closely by their crew with the camera rolling.

 

“We didn’t think we’d see you again so soon.” Vegard had a tentative smile on his face.

 

“I know. But I reconsidered. And now that I’ve seen you today, I’m thinking you would be a perfect fit for a project that we have going on right now.”

 

“You’re kidding. That’s fantastic!” Bård glanced at his brother who had an odd expression for a split second, which he quickly covered up with a fairly convincing smile.

 

“This is good news. I didn’t realize you were filming something this week.” Vegard sounded happy, but he also sounded wary to Bård.

 

“Oh, I’m always filming something.”

 

Looking ecstatic, Eli started jabbering happily with Bo about what a good choice he was making and how he had a cousin who owned a building that would be the perfect location for filming a warehouse scene, if he ever had need of one.

 

“What’s wrong?” Bård moved close to his brother so that he could keep his voice low.

 

“Kind of weird. He wasn’t really interested in us at all yesterday.”

 

“No. He said we had to join a theater group, and we did. He probably didn’t want to upset the people he works with.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

Bo invited them all out to lunch so that they could discuss the film project. In the van, on the way to lunch, Bård pushed Vegard as to the reason for his mood. “What’s with you? Don’t you think this sounds like a good thing?”

 

“Sure. Of course. I just… I don’t know. I don’t really know what was bothering me. I think it’s a good thing.”

 

“Of course it is. Eli recommended Bo, and Bo has shown us his work. This is exactly what we needed.”

 

At lunch, Bo pulled out a package which held two copies of the script. He let them read the parts he wanted them to play. Vegard was to be a cop, one of the good guys in the film. Bo wanted Bård to play a drug dealer. At first Bård thought that might be fun. It was the chance to play a dramatic role as a character who was far different from himself. But when they started reading the script he discovered that his character would be shot and killed three pages after his first line.

 

He whispered to Vegard. “It’s like I’m the lion on the safari again.”

 

Vegard snickered at that. “Are you ok with that?”

 

“Are you kidding? I get to kick back and watch you become a Nollywood sensation. I’m totally fine with that.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ngozi wanted to meet them again for dinner and, now that they’d been cast in a movie, they were  looking forward to meeting him. It would be fun to let him know how they were doing and how his friend Eli had helped them. They arrived back at the hotel mid-afternoon, after a very long lunch. There was a lot of time before they needed to gather for dinner, so the crew went off on their own for a while. Vegard was thinking of looking over the script. After all, his character wasn’t going to be killed off and he had a lot of lines to learn. But Bård had a plan of his own and snared him before he got onto the elevator.

 

“Vegard come with me.” Bård took him by the arm and guided him away from the elevator.

 

“Where?”

 

“Just come, will you? Why are you always so suspicious?” He brought Vegard over to Jumoke who was sitting in his usual chair in a corner of the lobby. “Jumoke, I told you how good my brother was at sudoku. Right?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Bård. I remember that.” Jumoke looked up from the magazine in his hands.

 

“I think you two should have a contest, a race to finish one of the sudoku puzzles from your book.”

 

“I don’t think Jumoke wants to…” Vegard was shaking his head and looking a little uncomfortable.

 

Bård quickly interrupted his brother. “Sure he does. Don’t you, Jumoke?”

 

“Whatever you want, Mr. Bård. I am at your service.” Jumoke looked like he honestly didn’t care.

 

Bård went over to his backpack, which he had set down on a couch a few feet away. As he rummaged through the backpack he could hear his brother continuing to try to let Jumoke off the hook.

 

“Jumoke, really, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

 

“I know Mr. Vegard. I don’t mind. I think he’s proud of how good you are.”

 

“Well, I doubt that.”

 

“Yes. He wants you to beat me.” Jumoke smiled widely, obviously enjoying what he saw as brotherly admiration.

 

“Here they are. I had the lady at the front desk copy this puzzle out of Jumoke’s book this morning.” He handed them each a puzzle page, which had been stuffed in his backpack,  and pencils, which he’d borrowed from the frontdesk. He looked at Vegard who still appeared to be quite dubious. “Come on. You’ll do it, won’t you?” Bård thought this would be fun and didn’t know why Vegard was being so difficult.

 

“I don’t understand why you want me to do this.”

 

“I just... I don’t know. I told Jumoke how good you were at it. I wanted to show him.”

 

Vegard searched his face for some other motive and then laughed. “Alright, but just one.” And then he said quietly to Bård, “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

 

“Pffft." He noticed Jumoke, smiling at him as if he were Jumoke’s own little brother. “Now, Jumoke. Don’t hold back. Do your best, ok?”

 

“Alright, Mr. Bård. It will be a real contest.”

 

“Ok, good.” Bård looked at both men, making sure they were each ready. “Ready… set… go!”

 

Vegard and Jumoke started working on the puzzle. Bård had never paid that much attention when Vegard had been working on a sudoku puzzle before. He quickly found out that it was rather boring to watch.

 

“Hurry, Vegard!”

 

“You do know that I can’t just slap numbers in there, right?  I have to figure it out.” Vegard looked up at him, a little annoyed.

 

“I’m just trying to help.”

 

“Then stop talking.” Vegard turned back to the puzzle.

 

Bård sat, feeling somewhat unjustly chastised, and watched the contest which was progressing at slower than a snail’s pace. He was amazed at how little seemed to happen from minute to minute. At times his brother and Jumoke were just staring at their pieces of paper. Bård considered that it would have been more interesting to watch a snail, because at least a snail would have been moving somewhat.

 

“What’s this?” Anders had gone out for a quick bite to eat and was carrying a half-empty carryout container of falafels.

 

“They’re having a contest. Are you going to eat all of those?” Bård wasn’t so much hungry as he was bored.

 

Anders looked down at his snack. He was still at an age where he could pretty much eat everything put in front of him. But, they would be going out for dinner soon. “No, help yourself.” Bård grabbed a couple. “Who’s winning?”

 

“I know! It’s hard to tell, right?” Bård laughed. This had turned into the least interesting “race” he could have imagined. Maybe that’s why his brother had been so dubious. “You wouldn’t want to place a little bet, would you?”

 

“Bård! Don’t try to take Anders’ money.” Vegard looked up at Bård, frowning.

 

“Keep your mind on the game.” He pointed at the puzzle and Vegard turned back to it after giving him a disapproving look. “Anders, it doesn’t have to be a lot of money. Just something to make it interesting.”

 

Anders was smiling. Honestly, he still was a little starstruck by Bård and Vegard. He hadn’t worked with too many people at TVNorge yet, and certainly nobody like them. He had been watching them on TV for years. He was starting to get used to the idea of working together, but having Bård include him like this was too good to pass up. “Sure. Uh… maybe 100 krone? Is that too little?”

 

“No. That’s perfect. But who are you backing?”

 

Anders looked back and forth at Vegard and Jumoke.

 

“I should probably tell you, Vegard has done these puzzles before.” Bård didn’t want to mislead Anders.

 

On the one hand Anders didn’t want to displease Vegard by betting against him, on the other hand he had seen Jumoke doing these puzzles ever since they’d arrived. He scrunched his face and said, “Jumoke?”.  Anders studied Bård’s face for some indication that he was unhappy with that answer.

 

Laughing, Bård patted Anders’ shoulder. “That’s fine, Anders.” Then he whispered, “Actually, I probably should back Vegard anyway, since I dragged him into this.”

 

Anders smiled and moved behind Jumoke’s chair to see how he was doing.

 

“What’s going on?” Liam and Lars walked up with a few shopping bags.

 

“They’re having a contest. Where were you?”

 

“Getting presents for the wives.” Liam smiled. Lars rolled his eyes, giving the impression that it hadn’t been his idea to go out on a shopping expedition.

 

“I’m taking bets on this. I _have_ to back Vegard, so if either of you want to bet on Jumoke winning, let me know.”

 

Vegard glanced up at the ‘I have to back Vegard’ comment. “Thanks for the support.”

 

“Shhh… I don’t want them to know much I believe in you.”

 

Vegard shook his head and laughed. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe.”

 

Lars’ eyes lit up at the idea of a bet. “I’ll take a piece of that.” Bård could practically see that he was thinking Jumoke was a sure bet. “How much are we wagering?”

 

“It’s up to you. Anders bet 100 krone.”

 

Lars looked disgusted. “That’s hardly worth the trouble. How about 1000 krone?”

 

Liam shook his head. “That’s a bit rich for me.”

 

“Uhh…” Bård looked at his brother. Vegard didn’t look up, but he made an almost indiscernible shake of his head. He knew that Vegard would be uncomfortable if they took too much money from the crew. “Maybe a 500 krone limit.”

 

Lars and Liam answered together. “I’m in.”

 

This was making the event much more interesting. “How’s it going, Vegard?”

 

“It’d be better if you’d stop talking.”

 

Anders was looking at Jumoke’s puzzle and craning his neck to see Vegard’s. “I think Jumoke is winning.”

 

“I think this is going to take a while. Who wants me to grab them a beer from the bar? Vegard, would you like a couple?” Bård cracked up at Lars’ attempt at tipping the table in his favor. Vegard smiled and flipped him off.

 

A few minutes later, Lars returned with refreshments for himself and Liam and Anders. He was still laughing at his attempt at getting Vegard drunk. “How is it going? Did I miss anything?” Lars’ tone was appropriately sarcastic and made Bård laugh.

 

Nevertheless, ten minutes later, in a last second flurry of activity, Vegard finished his puzzle first. There was some grumbling from the crew (mostly Lars) that Vegard had been holding back until all the bets had been placed. Vegard took that a little too seriously, and tried to assure them that everything had been on the up-and-up, until Bård gently cuffed him on the back of the head and told him to stop apologising. After he shook Jumoke’s hand,  he stood up and Bård hugged him, enthusiastically. “See. I told you, you could beat him.”

 

“I’m glad I didn’t let you down.” Then he looked at him a little disapprovingly. “You know, you can’t keep their money.”

 

“Oh, come on. They would have kept mine.” He smiled teasingly, knowing that he wouldn’t win this argument.

 

“Bård…” Vegard gave him a parental look.

 

“Alright.  I’ll use it to buy everyone drinks tonight. Ok?”

 

“Fine. I’m sure they’ll like that.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

That evening Ngozi took them all out to a new restaurant, it was somewhat fancier and definitely more expensive than the first restaurant he had introduced them to. The food was excellent and the servings were so large that even Anders was full at the end of the meal.

 

As soon as Ngozi heard that they had succeeded in getting movie roles, he insisted on paying for everyone’s meals. Vegard tried to convince him that it wasn’t necessary but Ngozi had his mind made up. Since it appeared that he might be insulted if they wouldn’t let him pay, they acquiesced.

 

As much as they hated to, they told Ngozi that they had to make an early evening of it. Vegard had worked on the script for a little while after his sudoku victory, but he needed to get back and learn some lines before bed. The rest of the crew was unhappy with that decision, but they cheered up when Liam suggested that they go to the hotel bar before retiring. And they really cheered up when Bård gave Liam some money to pay for their drinks.

 

“How ate do you oppose everyone will ray at the are?” Vegard ran the words through his head again and thought he understood Bård to have said: _How late do you suppose everyone will stay at the bar?_ He didn’t know why Bård always insisted on talking to him while he was brushing his teeth. He also knew that if he asked his brother to repeat what he’d said, he would just get mad, as if Vegard were pretending not to have understood, so he did his best to keep up.

 

“I don’t know. You know, you could have gone with them. I think your lines are: ‘Yeah.’, ‘Let’s get him.’ and ‘Owww!’”

 

Bård stuck his head out of the bathroom and grinned. “No, I don’t think I get to say ‘ow’ before I die.” Bård disappeared back into the bathroom, but the door stayed open.

 

“Well, maybe you can adlib that.” Vegard heard his brother chuckling. “You don’t have lines to learn. You could have gone.”

 

“Who’s going to keep an eye on you then?” Bård was drying his face he stopped momentarily to raise his eyebrow questioningly.

 

“I’m just laying here trying to learn my lines.”

 

“You’re trying to get rid of me. You think I’m going to distract you.” Bård turned out the bathroom light and practically fell on his bed.

 

“Uh… no… you wouldn’t do that. It would be bad for our show.” Vegard knew he had laid that on a little too thick.

 

“Aye aye sir. Message received.” Bård saluted his brother. On the rare occasions that he would do such a thing, he always held his pinky finger with his thumb to give more of a boy scout salute, rather than a proper, military one, just to annoy Vegard.

 

Vegard did his best to not let his face register any thoughts he might have about his brother’s salute. He waited for more comments. Nothing came. This seemed way too easy. Looking out of the corner of his eye he could see Bård biting his lips together, apparently trying not to say something. For some stupid reason, he couldn’t stand not knowing what it was.  “Oh, alright! What is it?”

 

“Nothing. I don’t know. This is fun. I like traveling with you.” Vegard was looking at him, a little stunned by the compliment, trying to figure out what the catch was. His brother’s silent stare made him uncomfortable and he couldn’t resist amending his comment. “Of course it is only Tuesday night. I’ll probably be over it by Friday.”

 

Vegard chuckled and picked up his script. It wasn’t too long before Bård fell asleep. When he started lightly snoring, Vegard got up and set his brother’s glasses and smartphone on the bedside table and turned off his lamp.

 

Later, when he decided to go to sleep, he set his alarm on his phone. He decided that Harlem Shake had had it’s day, so he picked out something with Bård in mind for the new ring tone and went to sleep with a smile on his face.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this. As always, I love to know what you think about my writing.


	4. Chapter 4

_‘Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in_

_So shame on me now..._

 

Slowly the song wove it’s way into Bård’s consciousness, becoming more prominent than the dream he was having.

 

_... places I’d never been_

_‘Til you put me down, oh..._

 

He was pretty sure that his brother was trying to annoy him with this new ringtone.

 

_...you were trouble when you walked in_

_So shame on..._

Was it the music that was supposed to be annoying, or was Vegard implying something?

 

_...Flew me to places I’d never been_

_Now I’m lying on the cold hard ground..._

 

He was surprised that Vegard even knew that song. He realized that there was no way the alarm would be turned off before he had given Vegard some kind of response.

 

_...Oh, Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble_

_Oh, Oh..._

 

Opening his eyes, he started singing along, his head moving in rhythm with the words. “trouble, trouble, trouble."

 

“Uhhgh!”  Vegard silenced the alarm. “How long have you been awake?”

 

“Long enough.” He laughed at his brother’s disappointed expression. “You should have used the verse for the alarm, that’s the annoying part.”

 

“I don’t know the song that well. I didn’t realize you were such a Taylor Swift fan.”

 

Ignoring that comment, he picked up his phone and started looking for the song online. “You didn’t listen to the whole song? I’ll play it for you.”

 

“Maybe, for your birthday, I could get you tickets to her next Oslo performance.”

 

“Shut up. Just let me find it.”

 

“That’s ok, Bård. I’ll take your word for it.”

 

He watched Vegard sit up and try to shake a few curls out of his eyes. “No. You’ve really gotta hear this.” He quickly found a link and started playing the song. Vegard was looking through his suitcase for his shampoo. He looked up and smiled when it got to:

 

_...you found me, you found me, you found me ee ee ee ee..._

“That is kind of…”

 

“Shh. Listen.” Vegard obeyed, but laughed silently at how urgently Bård had cut him off.

 

_...and when I fell hard you took a step back_

_without me, without me, without me ee ee ee ee ee..._

Bård sang along on the last few “ee’s” and then he turned it off and looked up at Vegard, grinning.

 

“That is pretty annoying, but maybe you’re missing the point.” Having found what he needed he crossed the room, swatting at Bård’s blanket covered feet as he passed, and entered the bathroom singing “trouble, trouble, trouble.”

 

“I’m not that much trouble. You’re lucky to have me.” Vegard disappeared into the bathroom.  Bård called out to the closed door,“You totally lost that round, you know.”

 

Vegard poked his head out of the bathroom door, laughing. “What can I say? I’m just not as good at being annoying as you are.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Bård smirked. When he heard Vegard turn on the shower, he hit play and listened to the song one more time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bård came out of the bathroom in a towel. “Do you know all your lines for today?” His hair was wet and dripping, leaving his shoulders speckled with drops of water.  

 

Vegard was still in the process of getting dressed. “Maybe. We’ll see.” Bård noticed the tattoo on his brother's leg and huffed out a small laugh, remembering how it had gotten there.

 

When they left Bo yesterday he told them to remember to dress the part when they came for filming today. Apparently, costumes were not in the budget for this film. Vegard sat on his bed and wriggled into a pair of black jeans. “I probably should have skipped the sudoku contest yesterday.”  

 

“No! That was awesome!” Bård dropped his towel on the carpet and slipped into a pair of boxers. “And I think _you_ had fun.” Vegard conceded with a smile. “See, you should trust me.”

 

Vegard looked up from his luggage. “What do you mean?  I trust you.” He turned his attention back to his bag.  “And pick up that towel.”

 

Bård picked the towel up off the carpet and tossed it over onto the tile floor, just inside the bathroom doorway. He was pretty sure if he left it there Vegard would hang it up for him. “When I wanted you to come with me to talk to Jumoke yesterday, you were so suspicious.”

 

"I wasn't _so_ suspicious." Vegard found what he’d been looking for, his off-white, linen shirt. He slipped it on and began buttoning it, with a thoughtful look on his face . “You mean you want me to trust you blindly?”

 

Bård’s eyebrows shot up. His “Yeah” came out as a chuckle and then he continued laughing, amused at the thought.  

 

Vegard tilted his head, a crooked smile on his lips. “I think your laughter explains why I need to at least _ask_ what's going on.”  

 

“It's not like I'd hurt you.” He immediately pictured Vegard after a few of his not-so-well-thought-out pranks. For the most part, stitches had not been required. He was unable to control his laughter.

 

“It would be a lot more convincing if you'd stop laughing when you said that.”

 

“Well, I trust _you_.” He said that as if it was only fair that Vegard should reciprocate his trust. Pulling on some faded and torn jeans, he looked innocently at his brother.

 

“That's because I don't laugh maniacally when I say I'd never hurt you.”  He waited for a response, looking amused.

 

Bård tried to answer through his giggles. “I can't help it.” He turned and grabbed whatever t-shirt was at the top of his bag, and put it on.

 

Vegard was over by the nightstand picking up his wallet and phone.“I _know_ that. You just like to leave your options open, in case it would be funnier to let me get hurt. So, I have learned to be a little cautious.”

 

Again, the thought that he actually enjoyed being with his brother flashed through his head. (It certainly wouldn’t have occurred to him a few weeks ago. They’d had too many things going on at once and were getting on each other’s nerves.) But he wasn’t going to make the mistake of saying that out loud again. “Alright. But seriously….” Bård quickly ran a comb through his hair, just hoping that it would look alright once it had dried. “...I wouldn’t _really_ hurt you.” He tried to keep a straight face but started laughing again. “Nope, I can’t do it.”

 

Vegard was standing near the door, holding his script, shaking his head and smiling. “Are you just about ready?”

 

“Yes.” Bård slipped on some shoes and hurried to join him.

 

As he opened the door, Vegard looked to his right and noticed the towel on the bathroom floor. With a sigh he picked it up and hung it on the towel rack. Bård hurried out the door so that Vegard wouldn’t see his grin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When they stepped off the elevator, Bård was singing “trouble, trouble, trouble.”

 

“Would you stop?”

 

“I don’t know if I can. It’s an earworm.” He could see that his brother was wondering if he’d have to listen to that song all day.

 

“Well, think about something else… like our bet. You do realize that you’re about to lose.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve still got ‘til noon.” Time was running out, though. If there was any way to push the parties in question, ever so slightly, toward a more favorable outcome, he’d better get on it.

 

“Whatever. I’m already planning how to spend my money.”

 

“It’s not your money yet. Besides, if he doesn’t blow up at Anders all week, then you don’t win either.”

 

“Yes. That would be a shame.”

 

Bård noticed Anders over in a corner of the lobby with a carryout cup of coffee. He made a beeline in his direction with the hope that Anders had bought one for him as well.

 

Before long everyone had gathered. Eli wasn’t going to meet them today so they had a little more room in the van. Eli’s front passenger seat was up for grabs. Anders and Liam both wanted it. Bård was ready to give it to Anders since he’d gotten him coffee (and also to give Lars a little more one-on-one time with Anders) but Vegard squelched that idea. Liam almost got the coveted seat due to his need for legroom and his seniority. But in the end Jumoke ended up in the front, since he was a local and familiar with the streets.

 

Lars took off quickly once the seat assignments had been decided. He drove like a man who had not had his first cup of coffee and who couldn’t have cared less which seat people were sitting in. They quickly arrived at Anders’ takeout coffee place, which they all referred to as The _Real_ Coffee Cafe and had a leisurely breakfast.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their van stopped in front of Bo’s office building. Everyone got out and, as soon as Lars and Anders were ready, they went inside.

 

“Good morning! How are you both today?”

 

“We’re good.” Bård shook Bo’s hand, but got only a quick nod and then Bo turned to Vegard.

 

“I think I’m ready. Is it just pages 15 - 25 for today?” Vegard was a little nervous about the memorization.

 

Bo smiled and put a hand on Vegard’s shoulder. “Now don’t worry. You are one of my stars, I will take care of you.”

 

“What about me?” Bård piped up.

 

“You have three lines, Bård. You’re expendable.” Vegard answered for Bo, who hadn’t actually heard the question. He’d gotten interrupted by someone else and walked away.

 

“Try to remember me when you’re a big Nollywood star and I’m…” Bård wasn’t sure how to end that sentence.

 

“...and you’re not.” They were both chuckling about that when Bo came back.

 

“Oh, yes! It is a good day for making movies. Bård, are you ready for your first scene?”

 

Bård was a bit surprised that he was being called on for the first scene, considering how few scenes he would be in this week. “Uh… Sure! Which one?”

 

“We’ll be doing both of them this morning. We have a location here, in the middle of the city, that will work well. The other actors are meeting us there.” Bo was collecting his sunglasses and a few other items off of his desk.

 

“I should introduce you to some of the people you’ll be working with” He started pointing at the people who had gathered. “Victor, Jaja, Nancy - she’s my assistant so you can ask her for anything you need - and this is Akin, the director.” Bård and Vegard went around the circle shaking hands and introducing themselves.

 

Nancy was a large woman with a warm smile. She surprised Vegard by forgoing the handshake and giving him a big hug. The hug, and the look on Vegard’s face when it happened, amused Bård greatly. He only had a few seconds to prepare before she turned her affections toward him. He thought he was ready,  but she was a strong woman and there was no getting out of her grasp once she was hugging - no matter how prepared you might be -  until she was finished. When Bård came up for air he saw Vegard with his head down, shaking from silent laughter.

 

They got back into their van while Bo and his crew piled into their own van, which was parked a couple of cars ahead of them. When he sat down next to Vegard, Bård started giggling again about the hugs. Vegard turned to him and said, “I’m not sure, but I think by Nigerian law, you two are married.” He and Vegard laughed about that most of the short drive to the first location.

 

There were a lot of people on the street. Not movie extras, just regular people on their way to work or some appointment or shopping. It was Wednesday morning, so along with the normal daily activity, there were many people that had come downtown for the weekly, open-air market. Many vendors were there selling fresh fruit and vegetables. Other vendors were selling a wide variety of items, from clothing and purses to jewelry and carved items. It was quite a striking sight because of all the bright colors. The market was in full swing by the time they arrived and as they all got out of their vans it became clear that this was to be the backdrop for Bård’s scenes.

 

Bo came over and introduced them both to the two actors that Bård would be working with. Bård watched with relief as Liam moved Lars and Anders so that they could get everything they needed for their TV show, without being in the way of the movie crew. He and Vegard were perfectionists and, if they had to, they would have done some of the directing. They couldn’t afford to miss an important shot. But Liam was doing an excellent job, and Bård decided to finally stop worrying about it. The two actors, whose names he almost immediately forgot but whose names in the movie were Benjamin and Moses, were very friendly and willing to explain how they usually worked.

 

They filmed a couple of pages of the script with the three of them walking through the market. Then they moved to a large, covered area nearby where people could buy food and beverages, and then sit at the long tables to chat with friends and co-workers. The space was open on two sides which let in a welcome breeze, while the roof provided shade. It was 11:30 am and there were a few people starting to come for lunch from nearby businesses as well as shoppers from the market who wanted to eat something before heading home. Bo told them that they had to shoot this quickly because there were finally enough people around so that the food court would look busy on film. It would be way too crowded in about half an hour.

 

The scene began with Bård and Moses coming up to Benjamin with the money from their drug sales for the last week. After counting the money, Benjamin got angry and accused Moses of holding back some of his share. Benjamin and Moses started fighting and, when Benjamin got the upper hand, Bård came to Moses’ aid. After a silly amount of punches (that was Vegard’s description) and knees to the groin, Benjamin pulled out a gun (which Vegard later said he should have done in the first place) and shot Moses. Bård, then, tried to get away by running through two long rows of tables. Which resulted in him being shot and killed. (Later, at lunch, Vegard pointed out that running away in a straight line was a terrible tactic.To which Bård simply replied that his character must have been on drugs.)

 

“So, how'd the death scene go?” Vegard was munching on some fruit that he’d bought from the market, when Bård came up to him.

 

“Fine." He started laughing. "The lady who was sitting at the table, right next to where I was when I got shot, looked at me very sympathetically while I was dying. I don’t think she even realized we were filming a movie. She looked at me and made a sad face and then she just kept eating.”

 

“Well, she’d already paid for her food.” Vegard said it very matter of factly. Bård knew he said it as a joke, but it struck him as a very pragmatic, Vegard-like comment, which made it all the more humorous to him.

 

“Did you even watch my performance or were you off buying produce?”

 

“I watched.” Vegard took another bite of fruit.

 

“Did you…?”

 

“Yes... of course… I got you a banana.”

 

“Thanks. Dying made me hungry." 

 

Bo called out that they’d gotten what they needed. Everyone could eat lunch, and then they’d be going to another location for the afternoon. Lunch dragged on longer than they would have expected. After noon, Vegard started prodding Anders to pester Lars. Bård knew he should object, but he had been the one who thought that Lars was going to blow up at Anders in the first place and he still kind of wanted to see it happen. It was probably worth a few krone.

 

Eventually, Bård noticed Bo talking on his phone. He had been chain smoking for the last hour. As soon as he got off the phone Bo started to round everyone up to go to the new location.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their two vans were bouncing down the rutted roads on the outskirts of Enugu. There weren’t so many people walking around as there had been in the middle of the city. In fact, it was pretty quiet on the street now. Bo was up front with the movie film crew. Bård and Vegard were in the second vehicle with their crew and Jumoke.

 

The moment that their van came under attack was something that Bård had replayed in his mind over and over in the time since then. Maybe they should have told Lars to keep driving. Maybe the van could have outrun the shit vehicles that the armed men were driving, but probably not. It seemed like most of the vehicles around Enugu looked like shit. Like they hadn’t had any maintenance done on them in the ten years that most of them seemed to have been around. The van they were driving sounded terrible and, as Vegard had pointed out, it really needed a new set of tires. No, they probably wouldn’t have gotten away.

 

The first awareness they had that something was wrong was the sound of an automatic weapon being shot off into the air. The sound immediately made Bård feel sick to his stomach, reminding him of the sound of gunfire from his childhood in Africa. Bård looked out the back window and saw two vehicles speeding towards them, quickly closing the gap between them. He turned to say something to Vegard but stopped when he saw his brother’s gaze was locked on something up ahead. He tried to see what it could be, but couldn’t see beyond the other van which had suddenly stopped in front of them. That was when he felt Vegard's hand on his wrist. His brother had never been good with words in emotional situations, but somewhere along the way Vegard had figured out a way to communicate by just touching his wrist. It was something that usually made him feel better.

 

Everything from that moment on had a dreamlike quality. Sometimes seeming to be in slow motion, sometimes flying by, as if large pieces of information were completely missing from his memory. The van door was thrown open. Bård saw a rifle poke in and felt a hand grab his upper arm and pull him out. There were no seatbelts in the vehicles so there was nothing to slow his exit from the van. The feeling of being pulled out of Vegard’s hand was wrenching. He looked back toward the van and saw Vegard being pulled out and pushed in his direction. Then, looking at the larger scene, realized that everyone in both vans was either out or being dragged out into the hot, early afternoon sun. The gunmen from a third vehicle, which apparently had come from the other direction and blocked Bo’s van, were ordering the movie crew to stand together.

 

The man who had grabbed him seemed satisfied that he was far enough away from the van and released him. Jumoke was still standing near the van and arguing with one of the gunmen in some local dialect. Bård had no idea what was being said, but he could see that Jumoke was trying to get the men to back off.

 

It still wasn’t clear exactly what was happening. Were they being robbed? Or were their vans being stolen? Or was this a case of mistaken identity?  Maybe the gunmen thought they had drugs or something. The arguing between Jumoke and the gunman trailed off. Bård thought that maybe they had come to an understanding, maybe everything had been cleared up. But then he heard a gunshot and saw Jumoke fall to the ground. Even from a distance he could see that Jumoke was dead.

 

A few children, who had been playing in the street, stood around watching as the events unfolded. They didn’t look startled or scared, and certainly not surprised. They watched completely unbothered until Jumoke was shot, at which point they scattered. Now no one, other than the two film crews and the gunmen, were on the street. Apparently, no one was going to step out of one of the buildings to intercede for them.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Liam had decided to make a run for it. He only ran ten feet before he was shot. Bård watched in horror, assuming the worst, but one of the gunmen went over, grabbed Liam by the arm and pulled him to his feet.  Liam tried to walk but he barely made it back to the rest of the crew before crumbling to the ground.  Now Bård could see blood soaking the pants leg of his left thigh. Lars knelt down next to Liam and Vegard quickly joined him.

 

One of the gunmen started yelling orders.  A person from the other van was grabbed by the arm and was being pulled away from the rest of the movie crew. Then Bård again felt a hand on his arm and he was being pulled as well. The gunmen were still speaking in some language he couldn’t understand and seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. When the hand let go, he was standing next to the man from the movie crew. Bård had just met him this morning and he remembered that his name was Jaja because he and Vegard had thought it was a cool name.

 

“Jaja, what’s happening?” he whispered to the man next to him.

 

“He’s mad that your friend tried to run. He only wants to frighten you into obeying. Just cooperate with them, you’ll be alright.” Jaja’s voice sounded calm and reassuring.

 

He heard a grunt of pain and saw Jaja fall to his knees. Then he received a swift kick behind his knee and fell forward onto his knees as well. Bo, who had remained quiet until now, started shouting. He sounded frantic. A few of the gunmen were shouting, some of them seemed to be shouting at the gunman behind Jaja and Bård. It would have been terrifying enough if he had known what they were saying, but not understanding the words left him to only hear the increasing volume and rapidity of the words, until they were punctuated by a sudden, loud gunshot. Then he saw Jaja falling face first onto the ground next to him. He was still moving a little bit, but no one was coming to his aid.

 

There was more yelling and now he heard Vegard joining in. “No, wait! Don’t hurt him! No!!”

 

Bård looked over at his brother. Lars and Anders each had Vegard by an arm, and were trying to keep him from running toward Bård. He’d never seen his brother with that look on his face. What was it? Scared? No. _Horrified_.

 

He could see his own kneeling shadow and the gun which was now pointed at his head. It occurred to him that he should already have been shot. Why was it taking so long? He looked back at Vegard and wondered how his brother would deal with this. He was strong. He had always been the courageous one. But still. Bård thought he had to say something.

 

“Vegard. It’s ok. Stay strong.”

 

He was about to say "I love you", which seemed like an appropriate thing to say in that moment, when he heard a loud click. The man behind him started shouting words that, even though he didn't understand them, had to be swearing.  

 

A new voice entered the conversation. Bård followed the sound with his eyes and saw an older man coming out of one of the nearby buildings. Most of the gunmen looked quite young, many of them still in their teens, the rest in their early twenties. But this man was at least forty-five and had an air of authority. The other voices became silent until it was only this new voice who was still talking. The man behind him, the one who had unceremoniously shot Jaja, was definitely being chewed out. Bård looked down at his shadow and saw the end of the gun slowly point down and then move away from him. Someone else’s hand grabbed his arm, jerked him to his feet, and pulled him away from Jaja.

 

It felt difficult to walk. He was suddenly very aware that he was shaking like crazy. He kept looking back at Jaja hoping to see some movement, some small sign of life. But all he saw was a pool of blood. The guy holding his arm gave him a push. He lost his balance and sort of tripped forward practically falling into Vegard’s arms.

 

Vegard caught him and then hugged him tighter than he remembered anyone hugging him for a long time. He tried to say something, maybe finish telling Vegard that he loved him, but his mouth didn’t seem to be working.

 

“Bård.” Vegard’s voice quaked a little. Bård hugged him back and felt Vegard’s hand on the back of his head, probably about where the bullet would have gone in. There was someone talking in the distance… he had no idea who it was or what was being said… but it felt far away. Vegard continued to hug him and hold his head, almost as if his hand could retroactively protect him from the bullet that would surely have killed him.

 

His brain was a complete mess. He was thinking nothing and everything all at once. He became aware that his breathing was rapid, as if he’d just been running. Eventually, he felt like he was coming back into his body and heard himself speak. “What happened?” Bård really wasn’t sure why he was being held by Vegard rather than lying dead next to Jaja.

 

Vegard had turned them so that he was between Bård and the gunmen. He was still protectively holding the back of his brother’s head. “His rifle jammed.” That was the difference between life and death, a jammed rifle. He noticed that Vegard was breathing heavily too. Then he heard Vegard exhale a laugh of disbelief. “Stay strong?”

 

“I just wanted you to be ok…  if I…”

 

“How the fuck would I have been ok?” Vegard pulled away a bit to look at Bård. “How the fuck would I _ever_ have been ok?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this. I always like to hear your feed back, so let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

Slowly, Bård was becoming more aware of everything and everyone around him. There was a lot of discussion going on at a distance, and he still couldn’t understand a word of it. Vegard had broken their hug, but kept a hand on Bård’s forearm. Somehow, it made him think of when Vegard had been old enough to cross the street on his own and would take Bård’s hand to help him cross. Bård hadn’t thought that he needed any help. He had always tried to do everything that Vegard was doing (and more or less succeeded) so when Vegard had held his hand, he’d pulled away (sometimes before they’d started to cross, but often not until they were in the middle of the road, in a concerted effort to get his way), which resulted in them crossing the rest of the street with Vegard’s hand clenching Bård’s forearm, in a death grip, so that he would be safe. However, this wasn’t a death grip and he had absolutely no urge to pull away.

 

He looked over at Vegard, who seemed to have just realized that he was holding on to Bård’s arm. Vegard squeezed his arm lightly twice and then let go. The feeling of vulnerability that followed flooded over Bård so intensely that he almost protested out loud. Never had he wanted his brother to be his over-protective self so desperately than he had in that moment. Later when he thought about it (and he thought about every moment of that afternoon, over and over again, constantly) he wished he had at least thought to try to comfort or protect Vegard in some way. But rarely had that sort of thing gone both ways. It usually was Vegard looking out for him, Vegard protecting him. Even in the last few years, it was usually Vegard taking care of him if he got sick while they were working and not so much the other way around. Of course, Vegard didn’t tend to get sick as easily either, so he hadn’t had as much practice. At least that was what he told himself on the few occasions that the inequities of their relationship needled his conscience.

 

Liam was lying down and Lars was attempting to put pressure on his wound. In a way, Bård envied Liam. He looked pretty out of it. If they were all going to end up that way anyway, he would almost rather have been shot right away and then been unaware of the rest of it. Almost was the operative word though, because he couldn’t help but feel grateful that he hadn’t been shot a few minutes ago, that the rifle had jammed . He would have hated for Vegard to have witnessed that.

 

He couldn’t see Lars’ face so he had no idea about what he was thinking. He did notice Anders now, on his other side. He looked frightened and much younger than he had looked to Bård before, and it brought out the big brother in Bård. Without really thinking, he reached over and grabbed Anders’ wrist and just held it for a few seconds. Anders made no attempt to pull away, instead turning his head slightly and acknowledging the gesture with the hint of a smile. Bård squeezed his wrist gently a couple of times before letting go.

 

Looking away from their small group he noticed Jumoke by their van, still lying in the same position that he had landed. He thought he should be feeling something about what had happened to Jumoke, but he mostly felt numb. It was odd that he could look at Jumoke with such detachment. He had been more upset by Jaja’s death, and he’d only just met him that morning. However, he had been the last person to talk to Jaja and was inches away from him when he died, he supposed that made his death feel more real to him.

 

Bo and the rest of the movie crew were all standing together. Bo’s assistant, Nancy, was crying hysterically. Akin was trying to comfort her and the sound guy, whose name he couldn’t recall, looked to be totally in shock. Bo seemed to be talking to himself (which Bård thought maybe was his way of escaping into his own little world) and holding his head.

 

Then, in what seemed to be a sudden amount of activity but in what was probably just a response to some orders, the gunmen approached them. One of them grabbed Bård’s arm and roughly pulled him toward one of their vehicles.

 

Vegard called out, “Stay strong!” Bård wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a bit of encouragement or a bit of a joke, since Vegard had seemed to think that it was ridiculous when Bård had said it earlier. He didn’t have a chance to look back at his brother and verify it’s meaning, because a black hood was quickly put over his head. Then his arms were pulled behind his back, and tied. He was listening very carefully, trying to block out the voices and sounds that were closest to him, trying to focus only on the voice of his brother. He was hoping to hear that voice come nearer, but it didn’t. Someone was yelling something at him and pushing him further away from where he wanted to be. With a little bit of assistance he was inside one of the vehicles and, almost immediately, it was moving.

 

* * *

 

The person who had his arm probably had warned him about the steps, but he didn’t understand anything they were saying. Fortunately, the hand on his arm held him tight (he wondered how many other hostages had not understood that they were about to go down some stairs) and kept him from falling. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he was escorted a few more feet through what felt like a hall and then was turned to the left into what sounded like a larger space. His keeper pulled the hood off of his head and untied his arms. He said something in a soft voice, as if he were trying to comfort him - perhaps telling him he’d be alright or it wouldn’t be long - at least that’s what it sounded like. Maybe that’s just what he wanted to think. Then the man exited, locking the door behind him, leaving Bård alone.

 

Bård looked around. The walls that surrounded him were gray. The walls, the floor, the ceiling - it was all gray. There was no furniture. Not even a mattress. He stood there, in the spot where his captor had left him, almost unable move as he took in his surroundings. He was a hostage and being held in a basement. Somewhere in Nigeria. And… he didn’t know where Vegard was. Or, for that matter, if he was still alive. He forced that thought very far from of his mind. Of course Vegard was alive.

 

It occurred to him that he should at least check and see if he could get out. He went up to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. There was one window, but it was very high - the bottom of it being at least eight feet high. It was also very small. Even if he could get up there, and if he could somehow get the bars off the otherwise open window, he’d never be able to fit through it. Not knowing what else to do, Bård sat down against a wall and waited.

 

Time crawled by. He had thought that they’d bring him some food, but nothing came. Not that he was hungry. Now it was evening, the sun had set maybe an hour ago. He wasn’t sure. He wondered how long it would be before he didn’t know what day it was. Then he chided himself. _I’ve got to stay positive. We’ll get out in a day or two, all of us._ Then he felt a little sick to his stomach when he thought of Liam. Why had he tried to run? But then, would he have tried if he’d been standing where Liam had been standing? Maybe that had been their best chance to get away, before they were brought to a second location.

 

He heard a vehicle stop somewhere nearby. There were people walking around up above at the street level. Before too long he could hear some footsteps coming down the stairs. Suddenly, he didn’t care if they brought him food. He sort of wished they’d just stay away. But there was something going on in the hall just outside his door. He heard the doorknob turn and the door open. There was no light on in the hall, but his eyes were adjusted to the dark and he could make out the outlines of two people. He didn’t know whether to hope they were there for him or not. Before he could decide, one person was shoved inside and the door was closed and locked.

 

“Hello, is anyone there?”

 

Bård jumped up and threw himself at newcomer, almost knocking him over. “Ugh!”

 

“You're alright!” Bård hugged him tightly.

 

“Bård?” Vegard kind of laughed and returned the hug.

 

“You’re alright,” Bård repeated as if to reassure himself that it was true.

 

Vegard huffed out another laugh. “You’re alright, too.” Bård could hear the relief in his voice. “You know, you shouldn’t jump on someone like that.”

 

“What, were you about to use your super army ninja training on me? Did you think some other hostage was attacking you?”

 

“Shut up.” He chuckled in spite of the situation.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Uh… I didn’t have much choice you know.”

 

“I mean they split us up, do you know why they put you with me?”

 

“No, I haven’t been able to understand anyone. All I know is they took Anders and Lars and I to some location and then they seemed to decide that there wasn’t enough room there for all three of us. At least I think that’s what happened. There was barely enough room for two. They were going to take Anders away and well, he’s so young and I thought he might end up alone, so I somehow got them to take me and leave Anders with Lars.”

 

“What, you just pantomimed something and they understood?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“How did you do that with a hood on?”

 

“They had already taken it off.”

 

“Wait, it was just you and Anders and Lars? Is Liam… Did he… ”

 

“They didn’t take Liam. At least not with us. I’m guessing they didn’t want to deal with his injury. Hopefully, he got some help once they left. ” Vegard’s eyes were adjusting to the dark of the basement. He looked into his brother’s eyes. “Are you ok? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

 

“I’m ok… I’m glad you’re here.” Then realizing how that might sound he added, “Well… you know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah, I do. I’m glad you’re here too.”

 

* * *

 

They sat on the cool floor, their backs against the wall. There was nothing soft to sleep on, no pillow, no blanket. “Why don’t we at least have mattresses?”

 

“Our kidnappers are too rustic for you, princess?” Vegard was smiling. He was obviously mocking the absurdity of the complaint.

 

“Very funny. You should have a TV show.” The reality of the situation was sinking in more and more and he was feeling irritated.

 

“Oh, come on. Don’t get mad.”

 

He wasn’t really mad. Well... yes, maybe he was. “For cryin’ out loud, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

 

Vegard looked at him like he was crazy, which at that moment maybe he was. “I’m on your side, stupid.”

 

“Oh, yeah. Now I feel the love.”

 

Vegard reached over and hugged him, saying it again, quietly. “I’m on your side.”

 

“Stop. Stahhhhhp!” He tried to get out of the hug, leaning far to his side. He still felt a little annoyed, but he couldn’t help smiling.

 

They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Bård realized that it was stupid to take out his frustration on his brother and moved back toward him so that they were sitting right next to each other with their shoulders touching.

 

“You can lean against me if you want.”

 

“What are you going to lean against?”

 

Vegard paused at the question, apparently thinking that the answer was obvious. But if he thought of making fun of Bård, he decided against it and just shrugged.  “The wall.”

 

“Well that’s hardly fair.” Bård felt sincerely hurt on his behalf.

 

“No, it’s not. But…  I will have the comfort of having my little brother next to me.”

 

Bård could hear in his voice that he not only meant it was comforting to have his brother there, but that he felt fortunate to still have his brother there _at all_. Bård quickly turned around and leaned back against him. He would have argued a little more, maybe tried to figure out something more fair, but he’d been surprised by the tears that had suddenly come to his eyes. He felt a little foolish but, more than that, he was determined that he was not going to fall apart. He wanted them to be able to lean on each other - at least metaphorically.

 

“Are you comfortable?”

 

He was almost embarrassed by how comfortable he was. Probably because it reminded him of other, happier times. “Yes.” Feeling comfortable, and as safe as he could feel under the circumstances, made him think of the others. “I wonder how Lars and Anders are sleeping?”

 

Vegard started chuckling. “Probably not like this.”

 

Bård couldn’t really imagine Lars allowing that either. Lars was a nice guy, but he definitely needed his personal space. “No, probably not. Although, Lars would make a more comfortable pillow.” It was too bad for Anders, because Lars’ slightly overweight build would probably make him quite comfortable to lean against.

 

“Are you complaining?”

 

Bård looked up to see Vegard’s expression, he had one eyebrow raised and a crooked smile. It made him chuckle. “No. It’s just an observation.”

  

* * *

 

He woke up early in the morning. His head had ended up falling over onto his own shoulder making his neck sore. He gave his neck a bit of a rub and then sat up a little and looked back at his brother. Vegard had slid halfway down the wall, his neck was bent at a sharp angle. Just looking at Vegard in that position sent a stab of empathetic pain into Bård’s neck. He slid himself back against the wall and nudged Vegard until he sat up a little and leaned back against his side. He was a little surprised that Vegard didn't wake up, but then after he had leaned against the wall for awhile, he realized that Vegard probably hadn't fallen asleep right away, in fact it was amazing he had fallen asleep at all. A couple of hours later when Vegard woke up, he was confused and made a face that almost made Bård forget how completely uncomfortable he'd just been.

 

"How did I...?"

 

Bård laughed. “You were kind of sleepy when we switched. You ok?”

 

“Yes.” He was looking around, still a little confused. “Thank you.”

 

Food arrived about an hour later. There were two bowls of something that was lukewarm with a consistency somewhere between a porridge and a stew. One person brought the food in on a tray while another stood in the hall with their gun in their hands. When the food had been set down, the boy (he was one of the gunmen, but he really looked more like a boy than a man) said something, turned around quickly and shot out of the room. The door was quickly closed and locked behind him.

 

Vegard stood up and walked over to check it out.

 

“What if they’ve poisoned it?” Bård wasn’t sure if he wanted to try it.

 

Vegard looked at him a little mystified. “Seriously? They have rifles. They don’t need to kidnap us so that they can poison us. Besides, they probably want a ransom. We’re worth much more to them alive… if that’s any consolation.”

 

A thin smile spread across Bård’s face. “It is actually. Thanks.”

 

Vegard picked up a bowl and smelled it, trying to identify it’s contents.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I don’t know. It looks like beans and maybe some tomatoes. There are some slices of something… it’s some kind of fruit, because there are seed inside of it.”

 

“Tomatoes have seeds inside of them and they’re not a fruit.”

 

“Yes, they are. Tomatoes are a fruit. If it has seeds inside, it’s a fruit.”

 

Bård sighed. He didn’t want to get in some nerdy argument that he already knew he couldn’t win. “Fine. What does it taste like?”

 

Vegard looked away from his bowl and at his brother. “Get over here and taste it yourself.” He started laughing. “What am I, your food taster?”

 

“Yes. If I can get you to do it, you are.” Bård overcame his lethargy and stood up. “All I was asking was if it tasted good, I wasn’t waiting to see if you’d keel over.” He walked over and picked up his own bowl.

 

Vegard was chewing on his first spoonful. “It’s not terrible.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like a winning advertising slogan. ‘Unidentified Stew - It’s _not_ terrible.’”

 

Vegard chuckled. “No. I don’t think this would be a winner at the supermarket.”

 

Bård was tasting his first bite. He made a face like he’d smelled something unpleasant.

 

“Listen. You can’t send this back to the kitchen and get something else. You’d better eat it. We might not get fed again until supper.”

 

 _We might not even get supper, I didn’t last night._ “Alright.” Bård took his bowl with him and sat down against the wall. Vegard slid down the wall and sat next to him.

 

When they’d finished, Vegard took both bowls and set them back on the tray.

 

“It’s nice of you to gather their dishes for them.”

 

“That kid who brought our food in looked so scared. I wouldn’t want to make him less inclined to feed us.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. We wouldn’t want to make our captors uncomfortable.” Bård couldn’t help chuckling.

 

Vegard looked at him and started laughing, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

They spent a good part of the day sitting in silence, occasionally chatting about random things. There didn’t seem to be much that they could do about their situation, other than to try to forget about it as best they could.

 

A second meal was brought to them late in the day, before the sun set. It seemed to be a lot of rice with some unidentified sauce and some vegetables. They wondered if their captors were vegetarians, or just disinclined to give them some meat or poultry. Even though they couldn’t identify much of what was in the dish, they both agreed that it tasted better than their earlier meal.

 

They hadn’t really talked about it all day, but after their bowls had been taken away, Bård felt like he had to talk about what they’d both been thinking.  “How long do you think we’ll be locked up in here?”

 

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure if TVNorge pays ransoms.” Vegard was pacing around the room, making Bård feel even more anxious.

 

“They’d have to pay for us, wouldn’t they?”

 

“Why? You think we’re so important that they’d have to change their policy?” Vegard was checking the door handle again, just in case they’d forgotten to lock it after taking their dishes away.

 

“That’s their policy?” He was somewhat shocked.

 

“I just mean if it is.”

 

“Well I wasn’t saying that we’re so important that they’d have to pay our ransom. It’s just that we’re not reporters who have embedded ourselves behind enemy lines. We’re just entertainers.”

 

“Why is that different?” That question was just annoying. If Vegard didn’t see any difference between those two situations, then maybe there wasn’t.

 

“I don’t know. Don’t they kind of accept a certain level of risk in those jobs? We’re comedians, usually, we’re just a danger to ourselves.”

 

Vegard stopped pacing and faced him, with his arms crossed. Bård was sort of wishing that he hadn’t started talking about this because now Vegard was looking very worried. When Vegard didn’t say anything, Bård blurted out what he was thinking. “I wish you’d just agree with me that they would definitely pay our ransom.” It was sort of a childish thing to say, and he regretted that it hadn’t just remained part of his internal dialogue.

 

“They will most definitely pay our ransom.” Vegard said it without thinking. There wasn’t much conviction in the statement.

 

Bård rolled his eyes at the obviously insincere statement. It irritated him that Vegard wouldn’t agree, but mostly it worried him. Until they’d started talking, it hadn’t occurred to him that TVNorge might not pay a ransom. There were plenty of other negative outcomes that had crossed his mind, but that hadn’t been one of them. Bård stared at his shoes, unable to look at his brother anymore. He heard Vegard sigh and then out of the corner of his eye he saw him walk over and sit down to his right.

 

“We _are_ going to get out of here.”

 

Bård had to give him credit, if he didn’t mean it, he at least sounded sincere just now. The problem was, now that doubt had crept in, he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself anymore. Besides, Vegard was just trying to make him feel better. He didn’t know how to reply, only managing to shrug indicating his uncertainty.

 

“We will. We’ll get out of here. I just don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

 

Bård turned to look into his brother’s eyes. He saw a lot of uncertainty in there, but he realized that Vegard was trying to be positive and that maybe he should do the same in return. “Yeah, I think so too.” Bård managed a smile and, based on his expression, Vegard bought it.

 

When they went to sleep, Bård slept fitfully. In his dreams, he was back in Angola.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos. I love to hear what you think about my writing!


	6. Chapter 6

_He was running, he was all alone and he had no idea where he was.  He had gotten separated from Vegard and had followed after him as fast as he could. At least, he thought Vegard had gone in this direction. But now, he had reached the edge of the village and there was just flat, arid land in front of him with no sign of Vegard. Their mom would kill him, that is if he made it back to their house alive. They weren't supposed to go outside of their little compound of Norwegian housing, but some men were working on the gate today and had left it open and unattended while they went off to lunch. He and his ten year old brother had decided to explore._

_They had slipped out of the gate unnoticed. As soon as they were far enough from the gate to stop for a moment Vegard grabbed his arm, looked him in the eyes and told him in no uncertain terms to stay by his side. It wasn’t like Vegard to bully him, but his expression when he told Bård to stay near had been so stern that it had truly scared him. Remembering that face, he wasn't sure who would kill him first for getting lost, his mom or Vegard._

_He hadn't intentionally walked away. In fact, he had just stopped to watch a street musician for a minute. He thought Vegard had stopped too. When the man stopped playing, he looked to see Vegard 's reaction. That was when he realized that Vegard was gone._

_He stood still, at the edge of the village, not knowing which way to go. He felt like crying, but Vegard always told him that crying didn't fix anything. A few tears were on his cheeks anyway, and he brushed them away with the back of his hand.  He turned around and started running back in the direction he had come from. Against his will, and his brother’s recommendation, tears continued running down his face. He really didn't want to be crying, so now he was mad as well as scared._

 

Bård woke up with a start, breathing heavily as if he truly had been running. That was usually where the dream ended, with him running and crying and sometimes calling out for Vegard. He hadn’t had that dream for a long time. It was something that had actually happened to them but, obviously, it had turned out fine. Still the dream usually left him with his heart pounding and feeling surprisingly anxious, considering that he was grown up now. He usually felt better if he continued thinking the events through as they had happened: 

 

> He was really out of breath and if he hadn't been so scared he would have stopped running. He saw the square up ahead, where he had last seen Vegard, and he felt a little surge of energy at the thought of finding his brother. But then it hit him, Vegard wouldn't be there. The thought stopped him in his tracks. It had been too long since he had last seen him. Vegard could be anywhere now.  
> 
> After that he made no effort to stop his tears. It might not fix anything, but he didn't think anything would fix this mistake. Vegard had probably gone home. Which was where Bård would have gone if he had known how to get there. He didn't even care how much trouble he was in anymore.
> 
> He reached the square and saw the street musician again. Everything looked pretty much the same as before, except he couldn’t see Vegard. Just when he was about to sit down on the sidewalk and sob, he heard his name. Before he could turn around he felt two familiar arms encircle him and hug him tightly. "I've been looking all over for you!"
> 
> He could barely answer through his tears. “I didn't know where you went. I got scared and tried to follow you," was what he had wanted to say. What he said was, "Vegard!", which was then followed by a river of tears. Vegard didn't tell him to stop crying or yell at him for not following close enough, he just hugged him until he had calmed down.
> 
> When he had quieted, Vegard spoke to him softly. "Come on. We need to go home. Did you get hurt?"
> 
> He shook his head. "No," he choked out.
> 
> "Don't cry anymore, you're safe now."
> 
> His brother was being so nice to him. "Why aren't you mad at me?"
> 
> "Did you get lost on purpose?"
> 
> Bård shook his head.
> 
> "Then I'm not mad." Vegard took his hand and they walked back home. When they got to the gate the workmen looked a little surprised, but they let them pass. They ran all the way from the gate to their house and up the front steps. Upon entering the house, their mother dropped the phone and ran to hug them.  It seemed to Bård that she was so happy to see them that they couldn’t possibly be in trouble. But once she knew they were alright, it became clear that she was not happy they had left the compound. She started listing all the reasons it had been a bad idea to go outside of the gates, each reason seemed more frightening than the last. Bård was about to dissolve into tears again when Vegard told her that it was all his fault. She sent Vegard to his room to “think about it” and told Bård he could play _in the house_ until dinner.
> 
> When their mom got involved on the phone, calling back all the people that she'd called while trying to find the boys, Bård climbed quietly up the stairs and knocked on Vegard’s door. Vegard was laying on his bed reading.  "You're not supposed to be here, I'm being punished."
> 
> Bård closed the door quietly behind himself and climbed up onto Vegard’s bed. "Would you read to me?"
> 
> Vegard read to him for about 5 minutes before Bård fell asleep, snuggled up close to him and hugging him with one arm.
> 
>  

Bård laughed to himself, remembering that every time his mother told that story, Vegard always commented that he should have just gone back to the compound alone and their mother would never have known that he was involved. Their mother always looked horrified at the thought, even though Vegard had been making the same comment for years now. Then she’d usually swat Vegard on the arm and tell him he’d never have left his brother like that, which Bård knew was true. He had come to realize over the years that Vegard hadn’t gotten mad at him because he had been so worried about him.

 

He opened his eyes. His heart was almost back to a normal resting rate. He looked over at his brother. They had decided that they might sleep better stretched out on the floor, even if they didn’t have pillows. Vegard had rolled over onto his stomach and was resting his head on his arms. Even though they were locked in a basement in Nigeria, he still felt a lot of comfort in having his big brother next to him. He thought about how initially they had been separated and wondered how he would be handling this now if Vegard hadn’t ended up in the same room with him. Quietly, he slid over until his shoulder was touching Vegard’s. It was a little cool in the basement at night, at least that was what Bård was going to say to Vegard if he said anything about it in the morning. It felt good to have a little extra warmth, but mostly he felt like he could close his eyes and still know that his brother was there.

 

* * *

 

Their breakfast dishes had just been taken away. Bård hadn’t felt very hungry, but he had eaten because he didn’t want to worry his brother. They heard the key in the lock and the door opened. One of their captors came in with a rifle in his hands. He pointed the gun directly at Bård and indicated that he needed to stand up.

 

“Wait. What’s going on?” Vegard sounded alarmed.

 

Bård stood up. He wasn’t sure how he managed to rise, suddenly his entire body had gone completely numb.

 

Vegard was on his feet as well. “No. Take me instead.” He took a step forward.

 

“Vegard. They don’t understand us.”

 

“Take me.” Vegard put his arms out, wrists together, trying to convince the guard to change his plans.

 

The young gunman took a step back and held his gun more tightly. Bård could see his finger move closer to the trigger.

 

“Vegard. Stop! You’re making him nervous.”  Bård grabbed Vegard’s arm and pulled him back.

 

“But, Bård…”  

 

Bård stepped in front of Vegard to make sure he didn’t start approaching the gunman again. “It doesn’t matter which one of us they move.” He wasn’t sure if that was true. Who knew? Maybe they wanted to execute someone to show TVNorge that they meant business. But he was afraid that Vegard was going to get himself killed trying to order the gunman around. Bård wrapped his arms around him briefly. ”I love you.”

 

“Bård…”

 

With a gun to his back, Bård was nudged to the door and out of the room, pausing while the gunman locked the door. They walked down the hall with Bård in the lead. When they got to the steps the gunman touched his arm and turned him around.

 

“Who was your friend?”

 

“You.. speak english?”

 

“Who was that?” The young man’s eyes darted back toward the room that they had just exited.

 

“He’s my brother.” Bård was surprised to feel tears come to his eyes. He had been so worried by the way Vegard had reacted that he hadn’t really thought about the fact that they were being separated.

 

The gunman looked at him for a long time. Then he nervously looked up the stairway and down the second hallway, to his left.

 

“Go back.” He nudged him with the gun, but he had it pointing to the ceiling in a less threatening way.

 

Bård only hesitated in confusion for half a second before moving. He didn’t know why the young man had changed his mind, or more likely, why he was going against orders, but he wasn’t going to question it. When they got to the door the gunman held up a hand to indicate that he should be quiet. After listening for a few seconds and looking back down the hall toward the stairs, he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

 

“Thank you.” Bård kept his voice to barely a whisper, so as not to alert anyone. The gunman looked Bård in the eyes as he nodded his silent response.

 

Vegard was sitting on the floor with his knees up. He had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “What?” His voice was a little husky.

 

Bård stopped just inside the door. The events of the last few minutes had left him shaken. He still could hardly believe that he’d been forced to leave Vegard. And although now, happily, he was back in the same room with his brother, his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his circumstances yet.

 

Vegard jumped to his feet and in three long strides he was in front of Bård. Two very familiar arms encircled him and hugged him tightly. He couldn’t count the number of times that had happened in his life, but through countless repetition it had become something that made him feel completely safe.

 

“What happened? How are you here?”

 

Bård looked back at the already locked door. “He asked about you… about who you were and when I said that we were brothers he changed his mind.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts about what had just happened. When Vegard eventually did speak, his voice sounded irritated. “Why did you say that?” He was obviously still upset. Normally, he would have covered it up much better.

 

“‘I love you?’ Why do you think?” Bård was seated right next to Vegard. They were leaning against each other, just enough to be reassured of each other’s presence.  Bård’s heart had finally stopped racing.  “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.”

 

Vegard looked away. He didn’t seem to like that answer. “Why would you say that? You shouldn’t say that.”  

 

“Well, I just wanted you to know.” He was a little annoyed at being reprimanded for his words. It wasn’t something they said all the time, but he would have thought that the situation was dire enough that Vegard wouldn’t chide him for it.

 

“We’re getting out of here. Both of us. You need to believe that.” Vegard stood up and started pacing around the room.

 

Bård’s eyes followed his movements. He looked like a caged animal, which wasn’t that big of a stretch. “So you’d rather not be bothered with that information unless I know we won’t survive?”

 

“You just told me that you said it because you didn’t think you’d see me again. You thought at least one of us was going to die. We can’t think that way.”

 

He hated when Vegard got like this. He wasn’t really talking with Bård, he was talking at him. Bård sighed. “Fine, I take it back.”

 

Vegard was still pacing and seemed not to have heard, but then the words sunk in. His eyes locked onto Bård’s. “You do?” He looked surprisingly hurt, considering how emphatically he had just asserted that Bård shouldn’t have said ‘I love you’ in the first place.

 

“No, dummy. Of course I don’t take it back. Would you please stop pacing and just sit down and talk to me?”

 

Bård was pleased to see a bit of a smile as his brother took a deep breath and sat back down next to him. Vegard shifted a little and leaned slightly into Bård, so that they were sitting just as they had been before. “I just need you to promise me that you’ll do everything you can to get out of here.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“I mean, if we get separated. You have to keep going if we get separated.”

 

“Why would they separate us now?”

 

“Maybe so that we would be harder to find... so we’d be more difficult to rescue. I don’t know.”

 

It was stupid, but Bård hadn’t really thought about that. He had wanted to assume that now that they were locked up, they’d be staying together.

 

“You have to promise me.” His brother’s voice was insistent.

 

“Yeah… ok.” Now Vegard’s words were weighing more heavily on him. Vegard didn’t mean _if_ they got separated, he meant _when_. When they were separated. When. It made him feel physically ill.

 

“You have to keep eating and take care of yourself.”

 

He really didn’t want to think about this. It was bad enough that they were being held captive. Bad enough that they were eating horrible food that they couldn’t identify. Bad enough that they were sleeping on the floor without a mattress or a pillow, and not even a blanket. But at least they were together. “Uh… ok.”

 

“Because I’m going to be really pissed off at you when I get out, if you’re not there.”

 

Unfortunately, now he could picture it vividly. Being alone, not knowing if Vegard was hurt or not. Not knowing if Vegard was alive or not. It made him want to shut down.

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

“What? No, I guess not.”

 

“You can’t give up. We don’t know how long it will take. Hopefully not long, but even if you haven’t seen me for a while, you have to keep going. I’m going to be so fucking pissed off at you if…” Vegard seemed to be unable to finish the thought.

 

“If what?”

 

“If you’re not there when I get out.”

 

Vegard looked at him with a very stern face. It almost made Bård laugh, because it had been so much more effective when they were kids. But, he understood what Vegard was getting at. He wasn’t sure how he’d handle being alone, worrying about his brother, especially if it went on very long.

 

“Do what they say, don’t take chances… but keep your eyes open. Most of these gunmen are kids, they’re going to make mistakes and maybe you’ll be able to escape.”

 

Bård wanted to tell Vegard that he’d curl up in the fetal position if he wanted to, thank you very much, but he realized that his brother was right. If Bård got out and Vegard wasn’t there he would be devastated. If Vegard wasn’t there because he had given up - stopped eating or something - Bård would be pissed off.

 

“Are you listening to me?”

 

“Yes. Ok. I’ll promise, but you have to promise too.”

 

“What do you mean? Of course I’m going to do that.”

 

Bård knew that look. His brother wasn’t a very good liar. Maybe Vegard wasn’t so much lying as he was stretching the truth in saying “of course” he would keep going. Bård could see behind his brother’s calm expression that there was nothing simple or certain about it. Vegard was worried about how he himself would deal with it if they were separated.

 

“Vegard, I’m serious. If we get separated, we’ll both be worried about each other. You have to promise me that you’ll keep trying, too. I’m not helpless without you. I will be there when you get out.”

 

“Ok. I promise.”

 

“Ok.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Someone was outside the door. They had heard some shuffling out in the hall. After what had happened that morning they were both on edge. Bård's eyes were glued to the door but when it took longer than expected for someone to open it, he turned to see Vegard's take on what was happening.  

 

Vegard was staring at the door. He saw Bård glance at him and he reached over and squeezed his forearm reassuringly. Strangely it had somewhat the opposite effect, as it gave Bård a new perspective on the bullet they had just dodged. They hadn’t been separated, but it could still happen. This was what it was going to be like, from now on, every time someone opened the door. They would wonder if this was the time that they would be torn apart. Would one of them be escorted off into the night at gunpoint? What would happen then? Would they ever see each other again?

 

Finally they heard the key in the lock. Slowly the door opened. It was impossible to identify who was in the unlit hallway when the door opened, but they were relieved to see someone with a tray step into the room. It wasn't the young boy who had been nervously bringing their food the other times, the person who emerged from the shadows was the gunman from this morning, the one who had taken Bård and then brought him back. As best they could tell, he was alone. The young man stepped in and set the tray down, an automatic rifle was slung over his shoulder.  

 

Vegard spoke very gently. "Thank you."

 

The gunman looked a little unsure of whether or not he should answer. "You're welcome."

 

"Thank you for keeping us together." Bård spoke very quietly, just in case anyone else was in the hall.

 

The gunman nodded and looked over his shoulder. It appeared to Bård that he was fairly relaxed, like he knew he was alone, but still needed to be on guard. Before they could say more, he quickly exited and locked the door.

 

Neither of them made a move. "It's your turn to taste it first." Vegard was smiling, knowing that Bård had no interest in being first.

 

Bård gave his brother a long look before standing up and walking with resignation over to the tray. Picking up a bowl, he examined the contents suspiciously. “I don't know, I can't tell what this is. I think there are yams... and more tomatoes... wait... I think it's... I think there is chicken in this!”

 

“I think you’re stalling.” Vegard was clearly enjoying the production that Bård was making out of this.

 

Bård brought a spoonful to his mouth and took a small bite. One eyebrow shot up as he considered what to say. "It's... different."

 

Vegard smiled and cocked his head. "Different it is good." Neither of them had really liked their previous meals and something in the sauce that was on the rice and vegetables last night had really disagreed with Bård’s stomach.

 

Feeling like he had completed his job of taste testing, Bård picked up the other bowl and went to sit down by his brother.

 

Vegard studied his food for a few seconds. Letting out a noncommittal, “Hmmm”, he decided to take his first bite. Bård studied him for a reaction, but Vegard maintained the same expression as if there were nothing remarkable one way or the other about the food.

 

They had a tacit agreement not to disparage the food - at least not directly - which meant they tended to eat in silence. (So, a comment like “Different would be better.” was ok. Whereas, “This tastes like shit.” was not acceptable.)

 

When their bowls were empty, Bård stood up and took Vegard’s bowl from him, walking it back over to the tray. “It would be good if we could get him to talk to us.”

 

“I know. It would humanize us.” Vegard sounded like he had been thinking about that already. “He’d be less likely to hurt us.”

 

They hadn’t noticed any approaching footsteps in the hall but, at that moment the door opened. It was the same gunman. Bård whispered, “I really appreciate what you did today. My brother and I both do.” He backed away from the tray and toward his brother.

 

The gunman nodded. When he didn’t say anything, Bård continued. “My name is Bård and this is my brother Vegard.” He really wanted to emphasize that they were brothers. They were family. Hopefully that meant something to the gunman.

 

The gunman had just stood upright after picking up the tray. “My name is Dayo.”

 

“Thank you Dayo.” Vegard said quietly. “Did you make the food?”

 

“No.” Dayo looked a little nervous. It struck Bård as slightly humorous, since their captor was the one with the weapon.“I should go.”

 

After the door was shut, Bård chuckled. “The food?”

 

“Yes. It seemed like something nonthreatening to talk about. We need to get him to talk to us more. We might get some information out of him.” Vegard had stood up and was checking the door handle again. He turned around looking a little disappointed, it obviously had been relocked. “Maybe we should ask him for some different food.”

 

Bård looked at his brother like he was was losing it.

 

“Asking for small favors is supposed to humanize you as well.”

 

It didn’t really surprise Bård that Vegard seemed to know what tactics would be helpful if one was held hostage. He always seemed to know all sorts of random stuff. But in this case, Bård was pretty sure his brother had had some sort of military training on the subject. Not feeling in the mood for an informative, hour-long lecture on how to be the ideal hostage, he decided not to ask where Vegard got his information. “Ok. But, actually, different food would be a huge favor.”

 

Vegard chuckled. “I know. We could only hope.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was morning and it was raining, which made their basement cell even darker and gloomier than normal. When the food came Bård didn't bother to get up and retrieve his bowl, so Vegard brought it to him. “Don’t be grumpy, eat.”

 

Bård tried to like the food, he really did, but it was the same unappealing, lukewarm breakfast dish that they had been served the other mornings. Even after giving what he felt was his best effort, half of his food was still left in the bowl.

 

Vegard had already finished his meal. “We’ve got to keep up our strength. You have to eat the rest of that.” Bård could hear Vegard’s military training in those words and was sure that it was more of an order than a suggestion.

 

He didn’t reply. He hated being held captive. He hated this food. He hated being ordered to eat it and he was annoyed that his brother seemed to be able to ignore the taste and eat the whole thing without any difficulty.

 

 _"You have to eat the rest of that.” That’s easy for you to say!_ For the next few seconds he allowed himself to ruminate on that thought. Then he chastised himself. He didn’t want it to be more difficult for Vegard. And why, he wondered, couldn’t he just do what he needed to do without making a fuss about it?

 

“Are you going to eat that?” Now Vegard sounded a little worried.

 

It was only yesterday that Bård had promised to keep eating and to do whatever it took to get through this. It seemed pretty pathetic to be breaking that promise already. “I’ll eat it.” He tried to think of something else, something delicious, as he shoveled the rest of the food into his mouth but the flavors in the dish were too strong and distracting, so he just ate it as fast as he could. When he finished he turned to Vegard. “That wasn’t so bad.”

 

Vegard sighed at the sarcasm. “I know it’s… the food, it’s…” Bård started to smile, seeing that Vegard was struggling to find a positive way to say this. “...well, it is what it is, but you need to chew it a bit or you’ll mess up your digestion.”

 

“But then I taste it.”

 

“Think about something else.” Vegard stood up to return the bowls.

 

“I did.”

 

His brother was walking over to the tray. “What?”

 

“A strawberry smoothy with a few blueberries and a banana.” He chuckled as he said it, realizing that it was a bit ridiculous. “But I couldn’t _not_ taste the food.”

 

“You should think of something more like what you are eating.”

 

Even though that was obviously a better strategy, he wanted to think about what he would like to be eating for breakfast. “Vegard, you can tell me to eat my food, but you can’t tell me what to think about as I do it.”

 

A smile slowly spread across Vegard’s face and he chuckled a bit. “There it is. That’s the obstinance that’s going to carry you through.”

 

He huffed out a small laugh. Vegard was probably right, he didn’t want to add intestinal problems to his list of woes. “Alright. I’ll try to savor it a bit more next time.”

 

Vegard snorted as he set their bowls back on the tray. "Right. Then maybe you’ll start to like it and want to ask for seconds."

 

The thought of getting a second helping brought on a wave of nausea and a totally disgusted look crossed his face. When he recovered, he winced out an apology. "Sorry." Even though it was nonverbal, he was pretty sure he had gone over the unspoken line of not complaining about the food.

 

Vegard smiled sympathetically.  "That’s ok. I guess that wasn't very funny."

 

"No, it wasn’t. That joke was in _bad taste_."

 

Vegard groaned, but the comment made him chuckle, until he seemed to recognize a certain look in his brother’s eye. Bård could never let a lame joke go unpunished. "No. Don't do it!" His words said no, but Bård decided that the glint in his eyes said yes.

 

“Just a couple. What do you get when you cross a potato with a penis?”

 

Vegard was smiling in spite of himself. “I don’t know, what?”

 

“A dic - tator." Calle had told him that one only last week. Vegard didn't even try to stop him, so he continued. "What do you get when you cross a prostitute with a Mensa member?”

 

“What?” Vegard chuckled. He had walked back and was sitting down beside Bård.

 

“A fuckin’ know-it-all.”

 

Now he had Vegard laughing, and Bård could feel his own mood lightening because of it.

 

"What do you get..."

 

They heard the key in the door and both of them stopped laughing.

 

The gunman stepped in and crossed over to the tray.

 

"Good morning, Dayo." It was good to see that Dayo was back, he hadn’t been the one to bring their food this morning.

 

“Hello.”

 

“My brother and I really appreciate your help.”

 

“You are family. Family should be together.”

 

"Do they know you didn't move him?"  Bård was surprised by Vegard's question. He didn't know if it would make Dayo feel uncomfortable. But it had been said very conversationally, as if Vegard didn’t really care what the answer was.

 

“Not yet. I moved someone else instead.”

 

Their captors were keeping other people in this building. This was new information. Lars and Anders weren't here, so someone else had been moved. It could have been someone from the Nigerian movie crew. Bård had no idea where they had ended up. Or, it could be some other hapless victims.

 

"I suppose they want money to release us." Again, Vegard managed to say that in almost a casual way. As if he was simply commenting on the rain that was falling this morning.

 

"Yes. Of course, there are four of you. I think he wants a lot of money."

 

Bård immediately thought of Liam. They must have left him behind. At least one of them was safe.  But then he realized that they might have taken him. Maybe they didn’t give him any medical aid. Maybe he didn’t make it. No! He wasn't going to think that. He'd already gone down that path and it only led to increasingly dark thoughts. He didn't want to end up sitting in a corner, unresponsive and picking at his clothing obsessive-compulsively. A breath of a laugh escaped his mouth. He had no idea where that image just came from. He was  pretty sure it wasn't even a real reaction to prolonged captivity. Now he was just making up things to be concerned about.

 

"...don’t know. It varies."

 

He needed to pay attention so he and Vegard could discuss what they'd heard.

 

"But you do release them. The people you... the other..." Vegard looked to him for help.  Bård sensed that he didn't want to call Dayo a kidnapper, or use the terms victims or captives.  He didn't want to say anything accusatory to him.  Better to act like you're on the same side.  

 

Without missing a beat,  Bård finished his thought, "Once the money is paid, the people are released. Right?" Now that he had completed his brother's thought, satisfactorily judging from the grateful glance, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Most likely Dayo would say yes whether it was true or not, but maybe he wouldn't. Or maybe he wasn't a good liar and they'd know anyway.

 

"Yes. Of course. You have nothing to worry about." Dayo smiled an easy, relaxed smile.  

 

 _Well of course he looks relaxed, he's not the one penned up and wondering what will happen next._ For a second Bård hated the young man. He turned away and took a deep breath, trying to let go of that feeling. This guy could help them, he already had.  Better to treat him like a friend.

 

When neither brother came up with another question, Dayo picked up the tray and headed to the door. As he turned around, to lock them in, he added with a smile, “Just don’t try to escape, they don’t like that.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your kudos and comments. I love to hear from you.


	8. Chapter 8

Dayo's parting words were chilling. Bård and Vegard sat in silence for a full minute after the gunman left before they began to discuss what he had told them.

 

“He said there were four of us. Do you think Liam is ok?”

 

Vegard, being who he was, answered honestly. “I don’t know. He could have survived, but probably not if they brought him here.” Vegard stood up and walked to the door to see if it was really locked. “Although, if they were able to give him medical treatment, I suppose he could be doing alright. But that would mean either Lars or Anders was dead.”  

 

Finding that the door was locked, Vegard turned around and looked at him. Bård hadn’t even slightly considered that possibility. Vegard was right, the kidnappers could have killed one of the other guys. They had no information, there were so many bad possibilities.

 

Vegard’s face changed. “But I think they left Liam. That would make the most sense. I’m sure he got to a hospital, he’s fine Bård.”

 

The words were meant to be reassuring, but Bård knew that Vegard had just said them because he had seen the look of horror that had crossed his face. They couldn’t possibly know for sure. It was like everything else, they’d just have to live with the uncertainty.

 

The thinly veiled threat of Dayo’s last words, _“Just don’t try to escape, they don’t like that.”_  was still swirling around in his head. Contrary to its intended effect, all he could think about now was trying to escape. “Maybe we _should_ try.”

 

“I don’t know. It would be very dangerous.”

 

“They killed Jumoke and Jaja." Vegard sat back down next to him  "They shot Liam. How safe do you really think we are here?”

 

“Jumoke was arguing with them... and he was a large, intimidating guy. Unfortunately, their kidnapping plan probably didn’t include having to deal with someone like him. Liam only got shot because he tried to escape.”

 

“I know. I wish he hadn’t tried to run.” He could picture it happening. He had barely seen Liam running before he heard the gunshot.

 

“And that's why they killed Jaja, too... and it's why they almost killed you.”  Vegard's voice trailed off and for a moment he looked like he was going to cry.

 

A picture of Jaja came into his head. It was always the same. Jaja was kneeling next to him, still looking like he believed that nothing bad was going to happen. As he normally did when that happened, he pushed that image away as quickly as he could.  "Were they punishing us for Liam trying to escape?"

 

“I think they just wanted us to cooperate, to be too afraid to escape. Although, there’s no way I would have cooperated if they’d killed you.”

 

“Vegard! You’re the one who insisted that I promise to do everything I can to get out of here."

 

“Yeah...if we get separated.” Vegard turned away from him. “You didn’t have to watch them put a gun to your brother’s head… right after seeing them kill someone else."

 

"I know. But still… "

 

"Stay strong!" Vegard scoffed. "Pffft!"

 

The first time Vegard had laughed at that, had been right after Bård had said it. They were both in shock. But this time it kind of hurt. “Hey! I was just trying to take care of you. I know I'm not as good at it as you are, but I wanted you to be ok."

 

Vegard was surprised by how upset Bård had become. “You’re right. I’m sorry... "

 

" _You_ try coming up with a phrase that says 'keep going and get out of this alive' with the time constraint of having a gun pointed at your head."  

 

Vegard looked stricken, but he regained his composure quickly. “You're right. Stay strong does sort of encapsulate that thought.”

 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

 

"Bård, it's ok. We can't yell at them, so we’re taking it out on each other."

 

“But I don't want to take it out on you. If we have to be here, I'm glad that we're together." Vegard made a face. “What? What was that look?”

 

“You know, they’re going to split us up.”

 

Bård wished Vegard could keep his logical, military preparedness side quiet. He didn’t doubt that Vegard was right, but he didn’t want to think about it. They were together now, they couldn’t control the rest. “Maybe not. You don’t know that.”

 

“Bård! There is no way they’re going to keep us together.”

 

The words stung. Now he was the one feeling tears come to his eyes. Before Vegard could see that, he got to his feet and started walking around the room. “So, maybe we should try to escape now, while we’re still together.”

 

They’d talked about escaping at least once a day since they'd been taken. The first step would be to surprise one of their captors when he opened the door. The problem with that was that they never knew, until the door was already open, if there was going to be one gunman or two bringing or retrieving their food tray.  It would be difficult to overpower even one gunman but, if they attempted it and there were two, the odds of one or both of them getting hurt seemed very high.

 

The second problem was that, even if they somehow found a pattern in how many people would be bringing their food, they might not make it out of the building. They didn’t think a large number of gunmen were outside their building all the time; but they did hear a number of them walking around, up at street level, on and off throughout the day.  If they got out of the basement only to run into one or two (or more) gunmen at the top of the stairs, they could easily be killed.

 

The third and perhaps biggest problem was what to do if they did get out of the building undetected. They didn't know where they were, how far they'd have to run to safety or even what direction to run. They didn't know who they could trust if they got out and they didn’t speak the local language so, unless they found someone who spoke English that didn’t happen to be involved with the kidnappers, they’d be totally on their own.

 

Once again, they talked through all the logistics of escaping and came to the same conclusion as they had every other time - at least Vegard did. Bård still wanted to try. Sitting back down next to Vegard he tried persuade him. “Vegard. Listen to me. The two of us would have a much better chance of overpowering a guard. And at least we’d be together while we were finding our way to safety. We could help each other and watch each other’s backs.”

 

“It’s too risky, Bård.”

 

Feeling completely discouraged Bård closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.  "It sounds like you don't even think we should try to escape. I thought you told me to watch for an opening. Isn't that why you're always checking to see if they've locked the door?"

 

Vegard thought that over. "Yes, it is. But I'm not sure what I'd do if it were unlocked. It would be very dangerous to attempt an escape. Right now we’re probably safer just going along with them. They need to keep us alive so that they can receive a ransom. The time to plot an escape would be if it appeared that their plans had changed."

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was the middle of the night and he was wide awake. He supposed it was because all they did was sit around. Of course, once he was awake, his mind started racing and he couldn't make it stop.

 

Vegard was sleeping peacefully. Bård was glad for that. No sense in both of them being awake.    

 

He wondered what was going on with their ransom. Maybe it was being paid at that very moment. They could be free by breakfast. But probably not. What if TVNorge refuses to pay? Why did Vegard have to suggest that possibility?

 

But he had to believe that they would pay. Or, someone would pay. Surely, someone cared about them enough to organize a ransom. Their parents. Their brother. Calle. And what about Ngozi? He had to be wondering about them by now. They hadn’t known him very long, but he was pretty sure Ngozi would want to help them. Eli, on the other hand, was way too focused on himself to even notice they were missing.   

 

Why did Vegard have to be so stubborn about attempting an escape? He looked at his sleeping brother. Vegard probably would have already tried to escape if he were alone. That thought sort of irritated him. He hadn’t had the military training that his brother had gone through, but he wasn’t exactly helpless. He didn’t totally mind his brother looking out for him, except when he felt like Vegard still thought of him as a ten-year-old.

 

He sat up and wondered what time it was. It felt like the middle of the night, but it was so hard to tell. There was no suggestion of a sunrise yet, judging from the tiny part of the world that he could make out through their small window, and it was silent in the street just outside that same window.

 

It would be easy to forget what day it was, the days were already starting to run together. If this dragged on he wasn't sure he would want to know how many days it had been. On the other hand, it would give him something to do. He decided he was going to keep track by making a mark on the wall.  It felt sort of good to have a task, too bad it would be over in a second. Finding a suitable pebble on the floor, he went to the wall and made three marks, then after more consideration added a fourth mark for the coming day.

 

Yup. He was right. Now that he’d done that, his mind was racing again. He started pacing, back and forth near the wall with the door. Did Vegard check the door after Dayo left? He couldn’t remember so he decided to try it. No luck. He went back to pacing.

 

“What are you doing?” In the darkness of the night, he had almost forgotten that he wasn't alone. Vegard’s voice startled him, leaving him with his heart racing.

 

“I… I’m sorry I woke you.”

 

Vegard sat up half way, leaning back on his elbows. “You can’t sleep?”

 

“Yeah, I was lying awake for a while and then I decided to get up.” He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Vegard. He knew his brother was probably worried about most of the same things anyway, but if he was able to sleep he should sleep.

 

Vegard was quiet for a bit before he spoke. “Are you worried?”

 

Bård sighed. “Yeah.” He felt too anxious to just stand there, so he started pacing again. It made him feel less like he was about to jump out of his skin.

 

“What about?”

 

The truth was, his biggest worry was something he wasn't even letting himself think about - being separated from his brother again. He decided to answer more vaguely. “Everything.”  

 

“You need some rest.” Vegard sat up fully and scooted over to the nearest wall. “Come here.”

 

“No. You need your rest too. Just go back to sleep.”

 

“Bård, come on.” Vegard was reaching out with one hand.

 

His brother was so good at knowing what he needed, often before he even figured it out. He wondered if he was any comfort at all for his brother or just another worry.

 

“Just come sit next to me for a few minutes. It will calm you”

 

He walked over to where Vegard was sitting and sat down beside him. He closed his eyes and for a few seconds he just focused on his breathing. Neither of them spoke. As his mind cleared he began to hear his brother’s steady breathing along with his own. It seemed unlikely, but he felt like he would recognize that breathing anywhere. It made him feel safe and soon a feeling of calm washed over him. Sometimes he wondered if his brother really could read his mind. “How did you know that?”

 

“Because, it calms me too.”

 

A small smile found it’s way onto Bård’s face. He could see that Vegard was a little embarrassed to have admitted that, which was always fun. But mostly, he felt surprisingly relieved that he was some comfort to his brother, his normally exceedingly self-sufficient big brother. Vegard seemed to be waiting for some comment, but he didn’t want to tease Vegard for finding some security in them being together. He leaned a little more into his big brother and closed his eyes. Before long, they had both fallen asleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Someone had just picked up the breakfast tray and Vegard, as had become his habit, went over to check the door and make sure it was locked. As he was jiggling the doorknob he heard someone out in the hall again.

 

Bård was doing a few push ups over in the corner. Vegard, in another round of what Bård referred to (in his head) as **_Helpful Hostage Hints 101_** , had told him that they needed to try to stay in shape in case they needed to escape.  A few push-ups seemed to go a long way towards satisfying his brother, and it was easy to ignore Vegard’s other “hints”  if he was trying to count. He wondered how it was that he could alternate between feeling like he wanted to protect his brother from the kidnappers and feeling like he might have to kill Vegard himself if he didn’t shut up.

 

The door opened. Those next few seconds were agonizing. He knew it probably was just seconds - definitely not a whole minute - between the time that the gunman entered their room and the time that he left with Vegard. Just a few seconds. Vegard took a few steps back from the door when it opened and the gunman pointed at him.

 

Bård’s first instinct was to run over to his brother. He felt like he needed to at least hug him before he left. But later, as he repeatedly mulled it over, he wasn’t sure if he would have just hugged him. It seemed more likely that he would have grabbed him and held on tight. It was difficult to imagine willingly letting go. It didn’t matter, he never got a chance to find out. The gunman pointed the gun at Bård as soon as he took a step toward Vegard, and when he continued approaching despite having the gun pointed at him, the gunman turned his weapon toward Vegard. That stopped Bård dead in his tracks.

 

Vegard looked at him and at first Bård had no idea what was going on in his head. There were too many emotions crossing Vegard’s face, and too many panicked thoughts running through Bård’s mind to make any sense of it. But then it came into focus. Vegard needed to know he would be alright. He had to be alright, at least for now, for Vegard. “It’s ok. Stay strong.” As he said the words, he surprised himself in sounding calm.

 

A small smile pulled at Vegard’s lips. “Stay strong.” The gunman nudged him through the doorway and just before the door closed Vegard looked like he was going to say something else. But then it was too late. Bård watched and waited. He listened, barely breathing, just hoping that the door would open again and they would bring his brother back. It was a mistake. It had to be a mistake.

 

But, this time,  there was no reprieve. He heard some footsteps up at the street level and doors opening and closing on a vehicle. After he heard the vehicle drive away it was silent. It was a silence that was more disturbing the longer it went on, the more distance that was put between himself and his brother.

 

It was hard to say what changed that made him truly believe that Vegard wasn’t coming back, maybe he had just been in a state of shock until that moment, but when it hit him it was overwhelming. His legs started shaking and he had to lower himself to the floor so that he wouldn’t just fall. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. As much as Vegard had warned him, had tried to prepare him, he wasn't ready for this.

 

He hugged his legs tightly to his chest and hid his face. He couldn’t think over the noise in his head. It was mostly _No, No, No!_ repeating over and over. It wasn’t just the fact that he was alone. That was scary, to be sure, but he could deal with that. It was not knowing what was happening to his brother.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had sat there before he started noticing sounds from outside the small window again. There were occasional footsteps and quiet conversations. He heard a vehicle come and go. And, in between he heard the chirping of birds in the trees nearby. Somehow, the world was still going on the same as before, even though his world had been painfully altered.

 

Eventually, he forced himself to move, walking slowly over to one corner of the room. He sat with his back against one wall and, closing his eyes, he leaned to his right against the other. He had hoped he could fool himself into thinking he was leaning against his brother, but the wall was cold and ungiving. He found himself straining to hear his brother’s breathing but, of course, he could only hear his own breathing now.

 

He felt a few tears come to his eyes and for a minute he wondered what he would have to do to get himself shot. It couldn’t be too difficult. But then he heard Vegard’s voice. _“I’m going to be really pissed off at you when I get out, if you’re not there.”_  He heard it so clearly that he opened his eyes, half expecting to see his brother there in the room with him. Wiping his eyes, he took a deep, shaky breath. He had promised Vegard he would do everything he could to survive.

 

He knew Vegard had never broken a promise to him... well, at least not since they were adults... he had to follow through on his promise to Vegard. Vegard would do everything he could to get out alive. He felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly at the thought. Surely he didn't have to worry too much about his brother. He had a whole book of knowledge about how to survive being taken hostage right there in his head.  

 

Perhaps he should have listened a little more carefully to everything Vegard had tried to tell him. Reflecting on it now, he wondered if he hadn't wanted to listen because he wanted to believe that Vegard would be with him to tell him whatever he needed to know. If that was the case, it had been a little foolish on his part because even he had known that they were going to be separated, and probably sooner rather than later.

 

Instead of sticking his head in the sand he should have used the time after Dayo brought him back productively. He should have listened carefully to his brother. There probably were some good strategies to making it through being held hostage. He shook his head. It was too late for that. He was just depressing himself with his regrets.

 

He should probably do something... walk around. _Happy now, Vegard?  You're in my head and making me do things to be a successful hostage._ He huffed out a small laugh.   _Maybe, if he really can read my mind, he just heard that._ He sort of hoped that was true. And, yes, he was pretty sure that Vegard would be happy to be in his head with his hostage survival information.

 

Not long after that, the door opened and a tray of food was brought in by the young, scared boy. It surprised him that it was already that time of day. Seeing that there was only one bowl of food made him feel sick to his stomach. It was just another reminder that Vegard was gone. The boy turned around and scurried out of the room. _“You have to keep eating and take care of yourself.”_  The Vegard in his head was back. “Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to, Vegard.” He said it outloud, partly to cut through the silence, which was really getting to him. _So, if I start talking outloud to myself, is that really any worse than having a conversation with myself in my head?_ He couldn’t decide. It probably didn’t matter. It was only really bad to be talking to yourself if you were with other people. That was not going to be a problem.

 

He picked up his bowl. Even looking at the food and trying to figure out what it was didn’t seem to be important any more. Who cared?

 

He walked over to the wall, the one that they usually leaned against. Sitting down he looked at his food, not really seeing the details. He wondered if Vegard was getting his food now too. He hoped he was. They’d better be feeding his brother.

 

He took a bite.

 

It was mercifully tasteless tonight.

 

Probably because he felt so numb.

 

Most likely, it still tasted like crap.

 

Half a bowl to go.

 

A car door slammed.

 

A few bites left.

 

Some dogs were barking.

 

He'd managed to eat it all.

 

He sighed.

 

It took almost everything in him to stand up and walk the bowl back to the tray. It was Vegard who had thought they should do that. They wouldn't want to make their captors feel uncomfortable.  He had thought that was funny the first time Vegard had done it, and had continued to tease him about it every day. But he couldn't find it in himself to laugh about it now. Leaving the bowl, he walked back to the wall, sat down and closed his eyes. He would keep eating, with the hopes that Vegard would do the same. And he would carry the bowl back to the tray for the same reason. If he could keep going, if he could keep it together now that they were separated, then he knew for sure that Vegard could. And that meant that Vegard was ok. He really needed to know that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments. I always enjoy hearing from you!
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read this.


	9. Chapter 9

All he wanted was for that first night alone in captivity to be over. Bård had been exhausted when he finally decided to close his eyes and try to sleep. But sleep was elusive. Thoughts of Vegard mercilessly crept into his head. Where was he? Had they hurt him? Were they feeding him? He knew he would never fall asleep if he was thinking about the condition of his brother, so he did his best to drown those thoughts out. The few times he had succeeded in pushing them away, he found it hard to think of anything at all. He just felt empty. His brain seemed to be buzzing with a loud white noise. He wondered if it was a feeling that came from being isolated. There must be some strategy for dealing with that, maybe Vegard had tried to tell him. He probably should have listened.  

 

Now that the sun was up, he felt like he could fall asleep, but he was going to try to stay awake so that he'd be too tired not to sleep tonight. He stood up and looked around for a pebble.  Finding one, he put another mark in the wall. _"It's important to try to create a routine for yourself."_ He must have heard Vegard say that because he could hear him saying it now. That seemed like something that should be part of his routine, he’d put a mark on the wall every morning when he got up.

 

Most likely Vegard had slept last night. It was part of taking care of yourself. He could imagine Vegard thinking that there wasn't any sense in lying awake worrying. It almost made him smile, thinking of how practical his brother could be about things.

 

He sighed. Today was going to be a long day. Not only was he tired, but even more so, he was sad. _Whatcha got for that, Vegard?_  He laughed at his urge to have a conversation with his brother in his head, and at how he could often imagine Vegard’s answer as if his brother were still there in the same cell. _"It’s important to exercise."_  He sighed. That probably was what he was suppose to do. He hated the idea, but he couldn't think of a good enough reason not to.  

 

He started with the push-ups that he had been doing to appease his brother. He followed up with some sit-ups and a few other exercises that Vegard had been doing in their cell. After a few minutes his mood did improve, which gave him the energy to do a little more. He was still exercising when breakfast arrived. He hadn’t heard the key in the lock due to his rapid breathing so he jumped back a little in surprise when he saw the door open.

 

Dayo came in, carrying a tray. Bård didn’t see anyone in the hall behind him. It occurred to him that Dayo often came alone, and even though he had a rifle it was slung over his back diagonally, the strap crossing his chest from one shoulder down to the opposite hip. He was probably wearing it that way so that it wouldn’t slip off of his shoulder while he was carrying the food, but that meant that he wouldn’t be able to pull it around and use it very quickly. He still didn’t know how to predict when Dayo would be bringing his food, but maybe if he saw that it was Dayo at the door he could decide to attack after the door had been opened and still catch his captor by surprise. At least it would be enough of a surprise that Dayo wouldn’t be able to use his weapon. He decided to file that away in his memory for later use.

 

“Hello, Dayo.” He forced himself to greet the man.

 

“Hello.” Dayo set the tray down and stood up, looking at him a little uncertainly. “They moved your brother.”

 

Bård wasn’t sure how to reply. “No shit, Sherlock.” was on the tip of his tongue but he forced himself to hold it in. “Yeah, they did.”

 

“I’m sorry.” It seemed like an odd thing for him to say, but Dayo did look like he felt bad about it.

 

“Do you know if he is ok?”  He tried to remember how Vegard had questioned Dayo. He had always managed to maintain an air of disinterest. That didn't seem possible for this question. Nor would it have been believable.

 

“I’m sure he is. He is worth a lot of money. Isn’t he?”

 

No one had ever asked him that before. It made him want to chuckle. Under normal circumstances he would have denied it... for comic effect. He thought before he answered. He didn’t want them to think they could ask for too much money. He had no idea where the line was that would cause TVNorge to say “No thanks. You can keep them.”, but there had to be a limit. On the other hand, if he were to say that Vegard wasn’t worth very much, what would the kidnappers do with him? A simple “Yes.” felt like the safest course.

 

“That’s good. Then you have nothing to worry about.”

 

Dayo exited and locked the door. Bård stared at the door for a while before getting up and retrieving his breakfast.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was only his second full day alone, and already it seemed to be dragging on endlessly. Yesterday he had spent mostly in what he supposed was shock. It was a sickening feeling whose only plus was that he lost all sense of time. Today he was all too aware that this was real and that it was very unlikely that he would see his brother again before they were released. He didn’t want to sit and worry about Vegard all day so he was going to have to figure out what to do with his time.

 

The first few days, he and Vegard had spent some of their time talking about escape and Vegard had spent what seemed, at the time, to be a ridiculous amount of time with his successful hostage tips, but that had left a lot of extra time. Some of it they had spent sitting together quietly, but a lot of the time they spent telling stories, making up limericks, even coming up with bits for their show.  It was hard to believe that they had actually been laughing together in their cell, but then again that was why they were still working together after so many years, they enjoyed each other and when things went wrong it usually brought them even closer. Now that he was alone, it felt like the day was much longer. It seemed impossible to think of much that was funny and his brain kept leading him back to things he didn’t want to think about.

 

When he started to worry he reminded himself that between the two of them, Vegard was probably better equipped to handle this situation. He’d had military training and he was...well, he was Vegard. He was less emotional and more practical, which in this situation was a big plus. But deep down he was still a little concerned about how Vegard was dealing with this. He knew that his brother found thinking about all of his training on the subject to be a great distraction, but he also knew that even though Vegard wouldn't say it, he was extremely protective of his family.  He wasn't sure how being separated would affect Vegard and he was almost certain that being held captive with family members was something that had never been covered in his military training.

 

There was nothing he could do about it. That was what he kept coming back to. He couldn’t change what had happened. He couldn’t make sure his brother was alright. He couldn’t affect anything by his worrying. It was difficult to fully accept. He wasn’t used to being so limited by a situation.

 

 _“It's important to try to create a routine for yourself...”_  Vegard was in his head again. _“...it gives you a sense of control.”_  “Yeah, a false sense”, he said out loud. He wondered how many other bits of advice would come back to him if he was held captive for a long time. That one made sense, he needed to create some sense of control for himself or he’d go nuts. So far he had two items in his routine: keeping track of the days and exercising. He added to that trying to get information out of Dayo. Dayo was his only link to the outside world, he had to make the most of every encounter that he had with him. He spent some time thinking about how he would get closer to Dayo, make him his friend, and hopefully use him to get out of there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first night had been endless and sleepless, but at least he had still been a bit numb. By the second night, the numbness was gone. He was so tired. He hadn’t allowed himself to sleep all day. It was early to go to sleep, but the sun had set and he just wanted to escape into sleep. He stretched out on the floor and tried to clear his brain. He really didn’t want to think about Vegard so he tried to let his mind wander. His thoughts bounced back and forth to different events.

 

Their hotel room. That stupid ringtone. Wrestling with Vegard for possession of his phone.

 

Vehicles coming rapidly from behind. The gunmen. Vegard’s hand on his wrist

 

Paper Airplanes. Lots of them. He threw last…..after Calle and Vegard. Vegard’s expression, when his plane went so much farther than the licenced pilot’s last throw. Priceless.

 

Jaja…. looking so calm. Confident that everything was fine. Until….. it wasn’t.

 

“I like traveling with you.”  Saying he’d be “over it” in a few days. Vegard’s laugh.

 

A gun shot. A rifle shadow pointed at his head. “No don’t hurt him!"

 

Oslo. Kind of depressed. Too much winter. Too little sunlight. Vegard insisting they go out. Vigeland Park. It had been a perfect day.

 

On safari. “I get to be dead?” Vegard’s adlib.  

 

Anders... Lars... Liam.... Liam running, trying to get away.....

 

Ngozi... Eli....... Bo....... Jaja…..

 

Way too often….. Jaja….. smiling at first.... but then…. on his knees, looking shocked…..  and then….. after…..

 

But never Jumoke. At least not for more than a blink of an eye. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t deal with Jumoke. Couldn’t think about him at all.

 

He opened his eyes. It was almost more exhausting having them closed with all those thoughts making his head spin. _What do I do, Vegard? I don’t know how to do this._ He waited for some brotherly words of wisdom, something from **_Helpful Hostage Hints 101_** perhaps, but nothing came to him. It hit him in his gut. What if he couldn’t remember anything else that Vegard had said? He wanted to hear his brother’s voice, but right now there was nothing.

 

He was just alone.

 

* * *

 

 

He stayed stretched out on the floor until he heard the first vehicle of the day arrive. He didn't know what time that was, but it was always about an hour before the first meal of the day was delivered to him. He had tried to ask Dayo what time he brought the food but either he really didn't know or it was part of the effort to keep him feeling disoriented.  He didn't much care what the exact time was, but a routine did make him feel like he had some small amount of control.

 

The first few days after Vegard had been moved he hadn’t slept well. Each night, after a few hours of attempting to fall asleep, he had just given up and paced his cell for the rest of the night. By the fourth morning he knew he had to make a change. He couldn’t make himself sleep, but he could at least try to rest. So he didn't allow himself to get up until that first vehicle arrived. Often, he found that he would fall asleep for a couple of hours at just about the time he would otherwise have given up on sleep and started pacing. But, whether he fell asleep or not, at least he got some rest if he didn’t get up until his “alarm” arrived.

 

It had already been ten days since they had moved his brother. It felt so much longer, but he had been very careful about marking each day off right away when he got up in the morning so that he wouldn’t lose track.  

 

For some reason, Dayo had brought him the morning meal every day since they’d moved Vegard. Every day, that is, until yesterday. Bård had made an effort to be friendly to him. After the first few days it wasn’t so hard. He'd gotten Dayo to talk to him and was trying to get information out of him. So far he hadn't gotten much of importance out of him, but Dayo was becoming more and more comfortable with him.

 

That was why he had been so disappointed when he didn't see Dayo yesterday. He tried talking to the gunman who brought his breakfast in, but the young man didn't seem to speak English. There had to be other gunmen who spoke English, but he hadn't met any yet.

 

Bård was up and moving around, trying to stretch and stay as limber as possible considering he was sleeping on the floor, when he heard someone outside his door. The door swung open and in walked Dayo. Bård felt happy to see the gunman and reminded himself that Dayo wasn’t his friend. He didn’t want to lose track of that. 

 

"Dayo, you're back!"

 

"Yes. Good morning."

 

Bård walked over to pick up his food. As Dayo had become more comfortable with Bård, he had started to approach Dayo slowly after he had set down the food.  At first Bård hadn't gotten too close, but eventually he was able to walk over and pick up his bowl before Dayo had even set the tray down.

 

"I missed you yesterday." There was some truth to that, hopefully enough that it sounded sincere.

 

Dayo smiled. "Big Bosi sent me to a different location." Apparently bosi meant boss and Dayo always referred to his boss as Big Bosi.

 

"He did?” Bård walked back to the wall, sat down and started eating. “You didn't happen to see my brother did you?"  

 

"Actually,  I did."

 

Bård almost choked on his food.  "You... you did? Was he alright?"

 

"Yes. He was alright. He wanted me to tell you something."

 

"Oh?"

 

"He said, 'Tell him I'm fine and not to give up."

 

"Oh….... ok……. he’s fine and don't give up." He repeated the message to himself as if there were something missing. He wasn't sure why he was disappointed. It was great news. Vegard was alright. And he'd sent a message. It was just that it didn't exactly sound like him.  "Don't give up? Are you sure he didn't say 'stay strong' ?"

 

Dayo's eyes got a little bigger. "Yes. That _is_ what he said... I forgot. Is that a lot different?"

 

A smile tugged at his mouth. "No, not really."

 

* * *

 

 

Later in the day, he still felt a wave of relief when he thought about the message he’d received from Vegard. He’s ok. He smiled everytime he thought about it.

 

However, his mind had also gone other places: What if Vegard had lied? What if he was in pain? What if he just hadn’t wanted him to worry? What if he had sent a different message? What if Dayo had been told to say he’d seen him?

 

Initially, Vegard’s message had made him feel so relieved, and yet it brought with it so many doubts. He had almost gotten to where he wasn’t thinking so many dark thoughts. He tried to force himself to believe the message. He had to think he had seen a real recognition on Dayo’s face when he said the words “stay strong.” He didn’t think Dayo could fake that. He wished he’d given Dayo a message for Vegard, in case he went back there. He’d do that the next time he saw him.

 

When the door opened again for his evening meal Bård was surprised to see Dayo again.

 

“Hello, Dayo.”

 

“Hello.”

 

“It seems like this meal is a little later than usual.”

 

“We have been busy today.”

 

“Really… is there any news about our ransom?”

 

He had never seen Dayo look that uncomfortable. “Yes…. some news….”

 

Bård had been about to stand up so that he could retrieve his food, but Dayo’s tone froze him in his spot. “What is it? They’ll pay, right?”

 

“Yes. They’ll pay.” Seeing that Bård wasn’t coming over, Dayo set the tray down on the floor. “They have paid.”

 

“They paid? That’s good.” Dayo had an odd look on his face. “Isn’t it?”

 

“Two people from your group were released this afternoon.”

 

Bård stared at Dayo. He had to run the words through his head a few times to understand their meaning. TVNorge had paid. Two people had been released. Only two people.  “Why?” He was surprised he was able to form even that one word.

 

“More money. Big Bosi thinks we can get more money.”

 

“But if they paid what you asked for…” He knew it was pointless. Dayo wasn’t in charge, and even if he could talk to Dayo’s boss how do you ask a kidnapper to be reasonable? “My brother?”

 

“We will keep you and your brother a little while longer. No worries. You will be released. As soon as they send more money.”

 

It had been naive of him to think that once the money came through everything would be fine. They were dealing with criminals. People who did this for a living. Why had it not even occurred to him that something like this might happen?

 

He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Dayo left without a word. It had been two weeks today since they’d been taken. Two weeks which had seemed like forever. How much longer would they be held? Did Vegard know this had happened? He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might rather not have been told, so he kind of hoped Vegard didn’t know.

 

At least Anders and Lars were free now. Assuming it was Anders and Lars. He pushed that out of his mind. That was what he was going to believe. It was the only way he could think of it and not feel sick. The gunmen had left Liam behind and he had gotten help. Liam was fine, and now so were Anders and Lars.

 

Then he remembered. He meant give Dayo a message for Vegard.

 

It was probably just as well. He hadn’t known what he was going to say.

 

He closed his eyes and tried to send a message telepathically. _"Stay strong, Vegard."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read this. I love to know what you think about my writing.
> 
> I may not update again very soon... I'm going on a trip. So this will have to tide you over until then.
> 
> Thanks so much for all of your support!


	10. Chapter 10

He woke up in a sweat, gasping for air, feeling almost as if he had truly been running. He’d had that dream again. The one where he was seven and so scared that he would never find his brother. In the last few weeks he’d had that dream a lot, sometimes when he woke up he felt as if he had been searching for Vegard the whole night long. It was exhausting. Bård rolled over onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm, wishing he could just get one decent night of sleep. He wondered if Vegard was having sleep problems. He was pretty sure his brother wouldn’t be bothered by a stupid dream.

 

It felt like such a long time ago that they were being held captive together in that room. It had been forty-four days since they had been kidnapped. A whole month since the first ransom had been paid and since Dayo had told him that he and Vegard would be staying “a little while longer.” That was the moment that he had truly woken up to the fact that these people didn’t play by the rules. It made him wonder if TVNorge hadn’t paid their ransom yet, or if the kidnappers had repeatedly not released them even though a ransom had been paid.

 

Every day he asked Dayo if he’d seen Vegard or heard anything about him, and every day Dayo said, "No." Despite the fact that each “no” felt like a punch to his gut, he kept asking. He had to know. Dayo would have to see him eventually. Dark thoughts were always on the edge of his mind, but he did his best to push them away. He was going to get out of there and so was his brother. He had to believe that.

 

He tried to imagine himself and Vegard back in Oslo, safe and working on their show. Sometimes he spent hours imagining that they were there. It helped to pass the time and raised his spirits...until something inevitably pulled him back into the present. Occasionally, when he was daydreaming, he would imagine that they were asked to do an interview, not because he liked doing interviews, but because they were a pretty normal interruption to their day and he liked to think about a normal day. Inevitably, the question he hated the most, the one they most often were asked, would come to mind. “Do you get tired of each other?”

 

They had gotten that question so many times that it shouldn’t have bothered him anymore, but it did. He and Vegard had long ago come up with their answers: “Yes.”, “Of course.”, “I’m getting tired of him right now.”, “We’re family. We’re stuck with each other so we have to make it work.” That seemed to satisfy people.

 

He always wondered if other people who worked together all the time got that same question… ever. It didn’t seem like he’d ever read an interview, with a band or the cast of a long running TV show, where anyone else was asked, “Don’t you get tired of each other?” Maybe most people wondered about Vegard and him because most people couldn’t stand to spend that much time with their own siblings. It wasn’t that he and Vegard didn’t enjoy their time apart on the rare occasions that they had time off, and of course they had their disagreements and very rare arguments, but he actually still enjoyed working with Vegard. There was a flow to it and an ease that he was never so aware of as when he worked with other people.

 

So now he wondered what he would say if he were ever asked that question again. Would he agree that “yes, of course. it was difficult to be with his brother so much”, or would he punch the guy and tell him that “no, he liked his brother, he liked working with him, and he was extremely tired of the question”? He hoped he’d have an opportunity to find out.

 

The first vehicle of the day arrived. He wanted to ignore it, to roll over and never get up, but he was trying not to slip into depression. So, as best he could, he focused on his routine, hoping to convince himself that he was still in control of a few things.

 

An hour later the door unlocked and Dayo came in with his food. Bård didn’t want to eat and he didn’t want to greet Dayo. “Hello, Dayo.” He managed to sound much more cheerful than he felt. He didn’t want to keep doing any of this.

 

“Good morning.” Dayo stood a few feet away holding the tray of food.

 

Bård wasn’t sure if he could face another bowl of that same breakfast mush. “What’s for breakfast?” He tried to make the question sound sincere, rather than the sarcastic swipe that it was. He stood up and, forcing a smile onto his face, walked over to take his bowl from Dayo. Why had he promised Vegard that he would keep going?

 

Dayo smiled. “Are you tired of this breakfast?”

 

Of course, he knew exactly why Vegard had asked him to make that promise. It became clearer with every day that passed. After all this time, he was so tired of everything, if he hadn’t made that promise he might have given up already. “No. It’s great. My regards to the cook.”

 

Dayo looked at him with a confused expression. He didn’t always understand Bård’s sense of humor. Sometimes that was a good thing because a number of sarcastic, snarky comments had gone completely over his head. “Regards?”

 

“Just tell him ‘thanks’.” Once again, he bit his tongue. It was surprising he had a tongue anymore considering how often he’d had to stop himself from saying what he really wanted to say. “Have you seen my brother?”

 

“No. I have not seen him. Maybe they moved him again.”

 

Moved him? Moved him where? He didn’t know if a change would make it better or worse for Vegard, but just the suggestion that his brother had been moved upset the delicate balance of things he told himself so that he could keep going. He felt the small amount of hope, which he had been clinging to, start to slip away as if it were sand slipping through his fingers. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Closing his eyes he forced himself to take a breath and reminded himself that he needed to keep Dayo talking.

 

“Do you really think they moved him or have you just not been to where you last saw him for a while?”

 

“No. I was there a few days ago. He was not there.”

 

“Could they have...released him?”

 

"No, I would have heard if a ransom had been paid." Bård was struck by the total lack of concern on Dayo's face. It reminded him again that Dayo was not his friend and not to be trusted. That fact was surprisingly easy to forget when Dayo was the only person he'd been able to talk to for over a month, his only contact with the outside world.

 

Dayo was already partway out the door when Bård decided to make a request, "Could you ask about him for me?" He knew it was a long shot, but it had been so long since he'd had any word of Vegard. _Asking small favors humanizes you._ Remembering that piece of advice made him smile, just a bit.

 

Dayo smiled. "I suppose I could do that."

 

“Thank you.” Bård tried to smile and not look as desperate as he felt, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t that good of an actor. He could only hope that Dayo would follow through and find out about Vegard. He hated having to trust this man, but he had no other choice right now.

 

* * *

 

The nights were always the most difficult. He had gotten used to sleeping on the floor. Every time he wanted to grumble about that fact he thought about Vegard. He didn’t know what his brother was going through, so it seemed like he shouldn’t complain. As he stretched out on his back his mind raced from one concern to the next. He was tired but he felt too wary of having another dream about getting separated from Vegard to fall asleep. Most nights he laid awake for at least a couple of hours debating whether he should sleep or not. He was supposed to take care of himself. He had been trying to do that. But those dreams... those dreams were wearing him down mentally and emotionally.

 

And then there were the bugs. There had always been a lot of bugs in the basement ever since they’d arrived, but it seemed to be raining much more often now and there were more bugs… biting bugs. He slapped another mosquito. “Ughhh!” He hated those damn things. Buzzing his ears in the dark. Leaving him with itching welts for a days. Just when he’d start to doze off he’d feel another one biting. Fortunately, the mosquitoes seemed to have a schedule. They’d get really bad for an hour or two after it got dark and then they’d go away. The bugs, especially the mosquitoes, were yet another reason why he laid awake for hours every night.

 

Eventually, his thoughts went back to what Dayo had said. Vegard had been moved. Knowing Vegard was somewhere, facing who knows what, had been difficult, but at least when Dayo had last seen him he’d said he was doing alright. What was this new place? Why had they moved him? Where was he? Was he far away? He had read that sometimes kidnapping victims in Nigeria had been taken far away into the jungle. That thought made him physically ill. Why hadn’t he told Vegard what he’d read? Why couldn’t he have been the one to protect them both for once?

 

Bård took a deep breath and tried to quiet his mind. He reminded himself, as he had needed to do almost every day, that there was no point in dwelling on what he should have done, he needed to focus on getting out. But his doubts about Vegard’s safety had already been wearing on him so now, with this new information, he couldn’t seem to keep them in check.

 

To distract himself, he ran through his nightly checklist. Had he done all the things on his list? Had he tried to make Dayo feel more like a friend? Not really. Had he tried to get information out of Dayo? Unfortunately, yes. Had he exercised and eaten all of his food? No. He hadn’t been able to force himself to exercise today. He knew he needed to do that. But he had eaten most of his food… well, a good portion of it…... well……... he’d tried anyway.

 

He sighed. Tomorrow... he would do better tomorrow. He had promised his brother he would do those things and, as hard as it was getting to be to keep that promise, it also made him feel connected to Vegard and that at least was comforting.

 

He closed his eyes and imagined that he and Vegard were in Oslo at Calle’s favorite pub. The last time they had gone there it had taken both of them to get Calle home. Fortunately, Calle was a cheerful drunk and he was hysterically funny on those occasions - although admittedly some of it was unintentional. He couldn’t remember what it was that Calle had said, as they were walking to Vegard’s car, but it had thrown Vegard into a giggling fit. Vegard hadn’t even been drinking that evening, but he had fallen to the ground unable to stop laughing and almost unable to breathe. Bård had thought for a moment that he might have to help both Calle and Vegard to the car. Just the thought of it made him chuckle as he started to drift off.

 

Then he felt it. “Ughhh!” He slapped one last mosquito before he managed to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Bård woke up early the next morning. He was anticipating seeing Dayo and maybe finding out something about his brother. Bård had to get up and walk around his room, too keyed up to even lie down, much less sleep. He tried to tell himself that there might not be any news or that it might be so vague as to be totally unreassuring, but he really couldn’t force himself not to be excited about it. He needed this. If he was going to last in this room for much longer, he needed to at least know that Vegard was still alright.

 

However, when Dayo came in with his food, he said that he hadn’t had time to ask anyone. The next day he said he hadn’t found the right person to talk to yet. Every day he had a different excuse, and as the days passed, Bård lost his optimism. It seemed to him that either Dayo wasn’t going to ask, or they wouldn’t tell him, or… he didn’t really want to think of all the possibilities.

 

So, Bård was surprised when, a week later, Dayo said, “I have some news for you.” Bård had just taken his bowl from Dayo and was walking back to the wall to eat. He turned around quickly anxious to hear, trying to read something… anything… from Dayo’s expression.

 

When Dayo didn’t continue, Bård prompted him, anxious to hear more. “So, what have you heard?”

 

“I asked Big Bosi about your brother.”

 

“Yes? What did he say?” Bård’s heart was beating so fast that his voice shook a little bit.

 

“Big Bosi didn’t want to tell me at first.”

 

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell you?”  

 

“He did. Eventually he did.”

 

“And…?” Bård almost didn’t care about Dayo’s gun, he was going to go over and slap him if he didn’t just get to the point.

 

“Your brother tried to escape.” Dayo looked down at his feet. “He’s dead.”

 

There was a long silence before Bård managed to choke out a few words. “No. No that’s not right.” Bård heard himself speaking, but his voice sounded strange and far away.

 

“It happened a few weeks ago.” Dayo kept his gaze down.

 

“No. That’s not true.” He felt a little dizzy and he heard something crash. He was vaguely aware that Dayo was still talking but he couldn’t really focus on anything other than a loud rushing sound in his ears.

 

He must have sat down, because after a while he realized he was sitting alone in the room. There were broken pieces of his bowl lying all around him and the contents had splattered everywhere. He sat for a long time staring at nothing. Eventually he found himself staring at his right foot. It was bloody, to the extent that it should have concerned him, but in his shocked state it didn't really register. He didn't feel any pain, all he felt was numb.

 

Dayo didn’t come back until he brought the second meal of the day. Bård silently looked up at his one connection with the outside world, the person he had thought might somehow be the key to getting himself and his brother to safety. Dayo paused, holding the tray, waiting for Bård to approach him and retrieve the bowl as he had so many times before. But when that didn’t happen, he picked the bowl up from the tray himself and set it on the floor in the middle of the room. Without saying a word Dayo went about picking up the pieces of shattered bowl and the larger globs of dried up breakfast mush, collecting it all on the tray. He had to get quite close to Bård while he was doing it, as much of the mess was scattered around the silent norwegian. Even when he was only a couple feet away from Bård, Dayo kept his eyes averted, looking intently at the job at hand. When Dayo was done, he picked up the tray and walked to the door. Before leaving he turned around and looked straight into Bård’s eyes. “You should eat.” Then he left, locking the door behind himself.

 

Bård stared at the door. He wished he could escape and almost welcomed the chance to confront his captors. What if he could get Dayo’s gun? He could shoot his way out of there. He could shoot them all. But, of course, it was too late for that. He should have done that long ago. He should have insisted on trying to escape while he and Vegard were still together. He could have convinced Vegard, at least now looking back on it, he felt like he could have. What good would it do now? Besides, although he hated to admit it to himself, he wasn’t sure if he could be so cavalier about shooting his captors, even now. When it came down to it, most of them were merely boys.

 

The food sat untouched, until another guard came to take the bowl away. Bård was barely aware of his presence until he felt an old piece of fabric drop into his lap. The guard pointed at the cloth and to the floor, back and forth repeatedly. When Bård didn't respond he began speaking to him, even though they must have figured out weeks ago that Bård didn't understand the local dialect. The young guard’s rifle was slung over his shoulder and Bård wondered how hard it would be to yank it away from the teenager. There was probably a 50/50 chance that he would get himself shot if he made the attempt, but those odds didn’t really bother him anymore. Finally, the guard bent down close to Bård. At that distance the guard looked like he was only 14 or 15 years old. The teenager gently touched Bård’s injured foot, being careful not to touch the cut, and spoke very quietly to him picking up the cloth and indicating his injury. Bård nodded to the young man, hoping that he would be satisfied and leave.

 

When the guard had left, Bård stared at the cloth in his hands. It would have been easy to wrap the cloth around his foot but it really didn’t matter to him. Nothing really mattered to him. He curled up on the floor hoping to escape into sleep. He didn’t want to think or feel. He didn’t want to believe what Dayo had said and he couldn’t convince himself that it was a lie. All he could do was close his eyes and hope that sleep wouldn’t be unattainable that night.

 

* * *

 

_He was running. Running and running back to where he'd last seen Vegard. He might as well have been running through water, it couldn't have been any slower. He finally made it to the square. Everything was the same. A few people had gathered around the street musician. But Vegard wasn't there._

_He sat down on the curb and cried. He sat and cried for a long time before someone came up and asked if he was lost. They guided him back to the small compound and once he'd slipped through the gate he ran at top speed to the house. His mother dropped the phone and quickly swept him into her arms._

_He felt so relieved. He was back home, everything was fine. His mother hugged him tightly and cried a little bit._

_But then she asked him, “Where is Vegard? Was he with you?”  Vegard hadn’t come back home. No one had seen him._

_Either to make Bård feel better, or because she really believed it, their mother told him that Vegard was older and very capable and she was sure that he’d be home soon. Bård stared at the front door, waiting for his brother to bound into the house, because that was usually how he made his entrance. He couldn’t be very far away. Time dragged on painfully slowly. Bård begged his mother to let him go back out and look for Vegard, but his mother insisted that she was not sending a seven-year-old out to look for a ten-year-old. He would be home soon. If he had been looking for Bård, he must know, by now, that Bård wasn’t out there._

_Bård continued to wait. His father came home…_

_The police arrived and questioned him..._

_Days went by…_

_Weeks went by…_

_Bård spent every day, staring at the door..._

_Waiting… hoping… even bargaining with God…_

_but Vegard did not return..._

_His brother was gone… without a trace._

 

Bård woke up with a start. The dream had never ended that way before. _It was just a dream._  He tried to calm himself down. _It was just a stupid dream._ He lay in the dark for a while, trying to think of anything but that dream. _Breathe in. It was only a dream. Breath out. Don’t think about it._

 

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the village square, the one where Vegard had found him so many years ago. But now, try as he may, he was unable to summon up that image from his memory. It had been replaced by the square from the dream and he was the only Ylvisåker there.

 

He lay on his back staring at the ceiling. It seemed like there was no escape, not even in his dreams. He tried not to think about what Dayo had said, but it was impossible. His mind constantly drew him back Dayo’s words. After weeks in captivity it was easy to believe that Vegard might try to escape. It wasn’t just that he had military training, he had always been brave (in fact, it seemed to Bård that his brother was much more brave than he himself would ever be) and if Vegard thought that they weren’t going to be released, he wouldn’t just sit by and wait for his fate. It occurred to him that part of why Vegard may have felt the need to escape could have been because he thought he needed to help Bård. The guilt that accompanied that thought was almost unbearable.

 

The other part of Dayo’s story, that Vegard had been shot and killed, that was also easy to believe. The guards were mostly young and triggerhappy, constantly playing with their rifles and he often had heard them shooting off rounds just for fun. It made him sick to think about it, but it wasn’t hard to imagine that they would shoot if given the slightest provocation. He had so many regrets about coming to Nigeria, about not thinking to protect his brother and the rest of the crew, and now he had a new one. Why hadn’t he told Vegard, before they got separated, not to come back for him? He hadn’t wanted his brother to take chances. He definitely hadn’t wanted Vegard to die trying to save him.  

 

His vision blurred and he felt tears coming, for the first time since Dayo had told him about Vegard. He buried his head in his arms and gave in to despair. _No, no, no._ He didn’t want to believe it, but Dayo’s words rang true.

 

_He tried to escape. He’s dead._

_He tried to escape. He’s dead._

 

* * *

 

 

When the sun came up and the first vehicle arrived, Bård decided that he needed to pull himself together. He tried to remember every word that Dayo said yesterday, and exactly how he had said it. Then he tried to convince himself that he didn’t _really_ know if his brother was dead. _Dayo is not my friend. Dayo is my captor. He could just be saying that Vegard is dead so that I don’t try to get away._  He knew that it was reasonable to be sceptical of anything that Dayo told him, but the seed of doubt had been planted and it made it almost impossible for him to think.

 

Dayo came in with the first meal of the day. Again he waited for Bård to approach and take the bowl off of the tray, and again Bård remained seated and silent. Bård could only stare at the man who had so calmly and unaffectedly told him that Vegard was dead. _He didn’t even use Vegard’s name. "Your brother is dead." What the fuck? He had to know Vegard’s name by now!_

 

_You have to keep eating and take care of yourself._

 

His brother had been so worried about him.

 

_You have to promise me._

 

That was so like his brother. Vegard was forever the big brother, and even though Bård occasionally complained about it, the truth was that he liked it. He counted on Vegard to look out for him and if that was gone… forever… he wasn’t sure if he could go on.

 

 _Because I’m going to be really pissed off at you when I get out, if you’re not there._  

 

But would Vegard be there if he ever got out? He had promised Vegard that he would keep going, but what if Vegard was already dead?

 

_...even if you haven’t seen me for a while, you have to keep going…_

 

He wasn’t sure if he could though. How could he keep going now?

 

Dayo returned to pick up the breakfast tray. He looked down at the uneaten food and said, “You’re going to have to eat.”

 

Bård didn’t look at him, he couldn’t. He wanted to tell Dayo to go fuck himself…. but there was still enough of Vegard’s advice rolling around in his head to encourage him to hold his tongue.

 

Bård watched Dayo leave and stared at the locked door for long after there was no one outside of it.

 

He held his head in his hands. How had it come to this? They'd had an idea to do a week of filming in Nigeria for their show. If only he had told Vegard about what he’d found online. But they were only going to be there for a week. He closed his eyes and remembered how it all began…

 

* * *

 

The door opened, and Dayo stepped in with another tray, startling Bård a bit. He’d spent the whole day thinking about everything that had happened, for all the good it had done him. He wondered if there was any point in trying to hold on anymore. Would they even let him go if another ransom was paid? The thought that they might just shoot him should have been terrifying, but oddly it seemed fitting to Bård. He shouldn’t get out of this alive. He knew he should want life, no matter what, but not this way. How would he ever live with himself if he were the reason that Vegard had been killed?

 

_You can’t let your captors get into your head. They’ll try to mess you up._

 

But he didn’t know that for sure. He tried to remind himself of that. Dayo could be lying.

 

_I just need you to promise me that you’ll do everything you can to get out of here._

 

He took another look at the bowl of food that had been left out for him. He had to believe that Vegard would be there, he had to hold on to that hope… for his own sanity. Slowly he stood up and walked to the tray to retrieve his food.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. This summer is really busy so I can't promise that they'll come more quickly for a while. But I am still plugging away at it.
> 
> The good news is now that we've caught up to the beginning of the story we might find out about what's going on outside of Bård's cell. 
> 
> Wait.. I had to think about that for a moment but, yes... I'm pretty sure we will!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is still reading this and thanks to those who have left kudos and comments. (I do apologize for not responding to the last few comments... it definitely does not reflect how I feel about hearing your thoughts.)


	11. Chapter 11

_7 weeks ago..._

 

He shouldn't have been surprised, he'd been trying to prepare Bård for it's inevItability, but nevertheless when the door opened and the gun was pointed at him he couldn't comprehend it at first. He’d been watching his brother doing pushups over in the corner. Bård had obviously been hoping that small effort would be enough to appease him (which it probably would have been... for a while.)

 

Bård was the first to understand what was happening. Vegard saw a panicked look cross his brother’s face upon seeing the gun. That expression quickly changed to determination as his eyes locked with Vegard’s. Bård jumped to his feet and started approaching. The young gunman seemed to feel threatened and turned his gun directly at the rapidly advancing brother. Bård looked like he really didn’t give a shit about the gun that was trained on him at point blank range and kept approaching. It was only when the gunman shouted something and turned the gun back toward Vegard that Bård stopped, foot in midair, as if he had been told he was about to step on a landmine.

 

That was the moment when Vegard should have said something to Bård. Something comforting. Something that affirmed their bond. But then it was too late. A hand insistently pushed him toward the door. His eyes were still locked on Bård’s and before he was completely out of the room he heard, "Stay strong."  

 

“Stay strong”, those two words seemed to stand for everything that they had promised each other: they would take care of themselves, they would keep going, they would see each other when they both got out. Before he could respond he had been pushed into the hall and the door had been shut and locked between them.  

 

The next few minutes were a blur. He must have been somewhat in shock because he didn’t even think to pay attention for clues as to where they were taking him. He couldn't have been in the vehicle for more than 20 minutes before it stopped and he was quickly dragged into a small house.  

 

The room he was brought to was small, smaller than the one he had left his brother in, but it was on the ground level with a fairly good sized window which he could open for air. There were bars on the outside of the window in case he got any ideas about escape. Looking out the window he now saw that there were only a couple of other buildings nearby. He seemed to be outside of the city now. His room looked like a bedroom, a very sparse one, but a bedroom. There was a bed with blankets and a pillow, and a desk with a small wooden chair. There were even a couple of pictures hanging on the wall.

 

But the thing that really caught his attention was the bed. After sleeping on the floor for the past four nights it looked inviting. He sat on the bed slowly, as if he needed to prepare himself for comfort as one would for pain. It was soft. Laying back to get the full effect he felt that it was even more comfortable than the bed had been back at the hotel, although that wasn't saying much.

 

He stayed in that position for a long time. His mind was racing and his thoughts were anything but restful. His brother's insistence that they might not be separated came back to him and now he realized that it _had_ been the unthinkable. It wouldn't have changed anything, but he wished he'd just agreed with Bård when his brother had asked him to. Of course, Bård hadn’t literally “asked” him to agree, but Vegard had seen it in his eyes the last time he had said, “They might not separate us.” He knew it for certain, just like he so often knew what Bård was thinking.

 

So, from now until they were both safe, worry for his brother’s safety would be hanging over every minute of each day. Of course, his concern for Bård’s safety had been heightened from the moment their van had come under attack, and it had caused him to act in ways that normally he would have kept in check. Even as he had been telling Bård all the things he could remember about surviving a kidnapping, he realized that it was too much. He could see that he was annoying his brother. He just couldn’t make himself shut-up. His need to protect Bård totally overruled any reason about how much information anyone could absorb at one time.  

 

Bård thought that he was totally clueless about how annoying he could be when he went into detailed descriptions of how things worked or the newest airport, but he wasn’t totally unaware. How could he be? He’d seen his brother almost every day of his life, of course he knew all of Bård’s expressions. Sometimes he really wanted to share his knowledge, and sometimes he just wanted to see how far he could push Bård. (He was allowed to tweak him every once in awhile, they were brothers after all.)

 

Looking back on it there were other things that he should have told Bård. Personal things. Not exactly his goodbyes, but all the things that he would certainly regret leaving unsaid if either one of them should not make it. He hoped that Bård already knew most of it. How glad he was that they were brothers. How much he enjoyed working with Bård. How proud he was of him……. and that he loved him.

 

His eyesight blurred and he quickly brushed away a few tears. Why hadn't he said it? Surely Bård knew that he loved him, but he wished he'd said it. He thought about how he had reprimanded Bård for saying exactly that just two days ago. It made him feel like a total idiot. Sometimes he forgot how much better his brother was socially. He promised himself that he would try to remember that, if they ever got out of there.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That first night alone seemed to take forever to pass. Vegard tried to sleep, but it was impossible. Not only was he worried about his brother, he found that he felt much more anxious now as well.  Apparently, being with Bård had given him a degree of security.

 

The ceiling fan was moving slowly up above him but he was barely aware of his surroundings. The guard had already come to retrieve his breakfast dishes so now there was nothing ahead of him but endless hours of solitude, in which he could be lost in his own thoughts. He was contemplating all of the mistakes he’d made that had led to their current situation. If only they had chosen one of their other ideas instead of coming here. If only he had listened to his gut when Bo offered them a part in his movie. If only he had…

 

Vegard sighed. He couldn’t keep thinking that way. He had to focus on getting out. For the umpteenth time he tried to convince himself that it was going to be fine. Bård was alright. He needed to believe that, but he also had no reason to believe otherwise. The place where they had been held was uncomfortable, but no one had hurt them there. Neither of them were sick or injured, they could manage if this went on for a few more days or even a couple of more weeks. He couldn’t help worrying about whether his brother would eat enough though. Bård had always been a picky eater, so how much would he eat now that his watchful older brother wasn’t around? That’s not to say that the food there wasn’t legitimately awful. It was. It was truly awful. It made him a little nauseous just to think about it. He hadn’t dared to say that outloud to Bård when they were together. Vegard just hoped that his brother would keep his promise and keep eating.

 

Angry voices brought him back to the present. It was difficult to make out the words, so he strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

 

“How could you let that happen?!?”

 

“Calm down, brother. You always knew that there was a risk.”

 

Vegard rolled off of the bed and moved closer to the window.

 

“Calm down!?! What are you talking about? I can’t believe you! Was that an acceptable outcome for you?”

 

“I didn’t see everything that happened, but it sounded like the bodyguard was freaking out.”

 

Vegard crouched down by his window. He could see two men standing on the porch of a small building that was to his left. The shade of the porch made it difficult to see their faces, but he could see that one man was leaning casually, arms crossed, against the door frame while the other was pacing back and forth and accentuating his sentences with animated hand gestures.

 

“Is that what he told you? Really? The bodyguard wasn’t freaking out. He was talking to… to…”

 

“Abalunam. ”

 

“Yes, to Abalunam. The bodyguard wasn’t threatening him. He was just trying to find out what your people wanted. He was trying to get him to…” The speaker threw up his hands and his voice trailed off as if he was at a loss for words.

 

“He said he felt threatened.”

 

“Pfft...threatened. He was the only one with a gun.”

 

“Look, the bodyguard was collateral damage. I’m sorry that it happened, but you should have warned us that he would be there.”

 

“I should have warned you? I should have warned you?!? Don’t put this on me. You’re supposed to be the professionals, I just play a small role.”

 

“And you profit from it. Don’t act like I’m taking advantage of you.”

 

Everything went quiet and Vegard leaned a little closer to the window, unsure if they had dropped their voices or if the last comment had temporarily silenced the dissatisfied party. He still couldn’t see their faces, but he was becoming more and more certain that the angry voice was Bo’s.

 

“Well what about Jaja? What do you have to say about that? I’ve worked with him for years. For years!! His youngest son is my godson. What do I tell his family? Answer me that!”

 

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t understand it either. Abalunam shouldn’t have…”

 

“That’s right!! He shouldn’t have! And he tried to shoot one of the Norwegians too. What did he say about that?”

 

“He knows he fucked up. I don’t know what else I can tell you. At least he didn’t kill him.”

 

“I wish it _had_ been him, then Jaja would still be here.” Hearing those words made Vegard’s blood boil. The gun jamming in time to save Bård was the one thing that had gone right in this whole crazy-ass mess. Vegard had to use all of his willpower not to shout something obscene out the window at the man. He took a few deep breaths and attempted to calm down so that he could hear the rest of the conversation.  “... been ruined. I can’t believe this.  It doesn’t seem to bother you at all.”

 

“It bothers me, but I’m a businessman. Things go wrong, you have to deal with it. People make mistakes, they tend to learn from them. He’ll be more careful next time… or he’s out.”

 

Vegard was still watching from his window. The two men moved off the porch, out of the shadows, and now he could see clearly that it was Bo. He identified the other man as the one who had stopped Abalunam from making a second attempt at killing Bård a few days ago. He assumed it was the man that Dayo called Big Bosi. As the men started walking toward Bo’s vehicle, Vegard quickly ducked out of view. He wasn’t sure what the repercussions might be if Bo found out that he was aware of the filmmaker’s involvement in the kidnappings.

 

“Go home. Relax. I know Jaja’s death was upsetting. I’ll try to make sure that I get some extra money for his widow. That should be of some comfort.”

 

Bo sighed in resignation. “Fine. I guess I’ll wait to hear from you.”

 

Vegard moved away from the window and sat on the bed. His head was spinning from everything he had just heard. Bo had known about it. He had set them up! It actually explained a lot of things. Vegard had suspected that the kidnapping had been planned. From the second that the van door had been ripped open, it seemed like the kidnappers knew exactly who they were stopping. Bård and he and the film crew had kept a pretty low profile over the last few days. They were a very small group of people going around filming in small restaurants and theater groups. They had to look more like a documentary crew than some sort of TV stars who were worth a high ransom, so he had to think that someone they had been in contact with had pointed them out. In addition, when the attack happened, two vehicles chased down their van and a third blocked the road ahead of them, someone had to have arranged for them to be at that exact location at that exact time.

 

He couldn’t get Big Bosi’s last words to Bo out of his head. “That should be of some comfort.” Really?!? That should be of some comfort? Vegard wondered if lives were really taken so easily here. He tried to put himself in Jaja’s family's place, but he couldn’t imagine it. It was beyond comprehension. No amount of money would have been of any “comfort” if Bård had been killed.

 

 

* * *

 

“Any news?” Magnus entered the small office without knocking.

 

“No, nothing.” Calle continued to stare at the phone as if he could will it to ring.

 

“Did you at least talk to the police again today?”

 

“Of course I did!” Calle didn’t know why he was snapping at his young friend. He knew it wasn’t Magnus’s fault that their friends had been kidnapped.

 

“What did they say?”

 

“That they’re investigating and waiting for the ransom demands… just like they’ve said every day for the past week.” Calle raised his hand, revealing a half-smoked cigarette that he had been holding under the desk in the hope that Magnus wouldn’t noticed it. The stress of this situation was wearing on him and he was leaning on his nicotine habit much more than usual. He couldn’t wait any longer. Bringing it to his lips, he took a long drag.

 

“You’re not supposed to smoke that in here.”

 

“Really? Do you think that this situation may have created an exception to that rule?”

 

“It looks like that’s about your tenth ‘exception’ this morning.”

 

“Fine.” Calle made a show of stubbing out the cigarette, smashing it into the saucer, which he was using as an ashtray, until there was very little left besides the filter. “There. Satisfied?” He stood up from his chair and started pacing back and forth in the small office.

 

Usually, Magnus was extremely patient, but even he had his limits. “I’m going to my desk. Let me know if you decide to stop being a dick and want talk about it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was high in the sky and beating down on the small buildings that made up the view out of Vegard’s window. From what he could see there were very few trees surrounding these buildings, so there weren’t many birdsongs to cut the silence. Time crept by day after day. It had already been two weeks since they’d been kidnapped. He hadn’t had any word about whether a ransom was going to be paid.

 

A couple of days ago he’d seen Dayo and been able to send a message to his brother. Hearing that Bård was alright had been a relief, but one that had been very short lived. Vegard had hoped that he would see Dayo again right away, but he hadn’t returned. It had only been two days, but it seemed like forever. He knew that they were only a few minutes away from each other, by car anyway, part of him irrationally thought that the kidnappers should at least keep them informed about each other’s condition. Even as those thoughts ran through his head, he realized that there was no reason for the kidnappers to do that.

 

Vegard closed his eyes and thought of the dim basement room that he assumed Bård was still being held in. At least since it was in the basement it was naturally cooler, but there was no fan in that room like the one he had now. And there was no screen on the tiny window to keep out the bugs. Everything about his current room was better than the one in which he had left Bård, except for the fact that Bård wasn’t there. The lack of bugs was part of it, but then there was the mattress.  It seemed so unfair that he was sleeping on a mattress when Bård was still trying to sleep on a cement floor. More than once he considered sleeping on the floor himself, in an act of solidarity, but Bård wouldn’t have known that he was doing that, any more than his brother knew that he had a mattress to sleep on in the first place. It was difficult to think about it rationally, but Vegard tried to remember that getting plenty of sleep was a high priority. If a chance for escape arose he could be more helpful to Bård, as well as to himself, if he were well rested. The most difficult improvement for him to deal with was the food. The meals here were actually good. Somehow, that made him feel guilty. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been moved instead of Bård, but still it seemed unfair.

 

He spent a few minutes wondering why he felt that if one of them was going to be uncomfortable, it should be him. Certainly, Bård could be a little whiny when he was uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure if his brother was any more whiny than most people. Vegard knew that he himself tended to ignore legitimate problems rather than complain, to the extent that he had managed to faint in his office last winter when he’d ignored his cough, his tight chest, his extremely high temperature and kept working with a severe case of bronchitis. Not only had he managed to really upset Bård, but he ended up giving the virus to Bård and a handful of other office staff.

 

So, no, it wasn’t so much that Bård was whiny (although Vegard probably wouldn’t correct his previous quite verbal assessments of that fact.) There seemed to be a much more simple explanation. Bård was his little brother. There was something about being the older brother that had stayed with Vegard far past childhood. Maybe it had been imprinted upon him when he held Bård in the hospital just after his birth and saw how tiny and defenseless his little brother was, even though he had barely been beyond that age himself. Or, maybe it was because of how many times he’d been told, "He's your little brother, you have to look out for him." But it seemed bigger than that to Vegard. It wasn’t something he did out of obligation or duty, it had become part of him. It was as much a part of him as his love of airplanes and his desire to play music. It wasn’t a choice, it was who he was.

 

A light flashed across the ceiling making him aware that something had entered the courtyard. He rose up onto his elbows and caught the back end of a white van passing by. Vegard was pretty sure it was the same one that Bo and his crew had used on the day of the kidnapping. He carefully rolled off of his mattress and crept over to the window trying to stay in the shadows. He could see Bo talking to someone on the porch but he couldn’t hear a word through the closed window so, as quietly as he could, he opened the window just enough so that he could catch what they were saying.

 

Bo looked to be somewhat calmer today but his body language indicated that he was somewhat uncomfortable being there. “I’m just glad this is over.” His voice sounded extremely relieved.

 

“Here it is Bo. The money I promised you for Jaja’s family. Hopefully it will help them along.”

 

Bo reached out and took an envelope that presumably was full of cash. “Thank you. They’ve been having a hard time. I go over there almost every day but Nijah is still inconsolable.”

 

“Time is the best healer.” The other man, Big Bosi, also looked a little uncomfortable, unlike the last time Bo had visited. “There is something I need to tell you.”

 

“What?” Bo seemed to know that he was not going to like the information that was about to be given him. He backed up and cautiously sat down on a bench, seemingly preparing himself for the news.

 

“It’s about the release of the hostages.”

 

“Oh… oh, no… you didn’t! The norwegians, they’re alright aren’t they?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Well, what is it then, Femi?”

 

“I released two of them and kept the brothers. I think we can get more money for them.”

 

“More money? No! You said it would all be over quickly, and it’s already been two weeks. We need this to be done.” It sounded like Bo was trying to be firm, but there was a hint of something in his voice indicating that he knew he was not in charge.

 

“Brother, you must be more patient. If we hold them a little longer, we can probably get far more than we received for the first ransom.” Big Bosi, or Femi as it seemed was his real name, was looking completely relaxed and in control again.

 

“No, Femi. We need to let them go.”

 

“Relax, Bo. You’re so high strung. You always have been. Now take this money to Jaja’s widow. It will make you feel better to do something for her.”

 

“What about my money?”

 

“It will come. When we get the ransom for the brothers you will get your share.”

 

Bo returned to his car looking quite displeased with this turn of events. Vegard moved away from the window and back to his bed, doing his best to stay out of view. It wasn’t until he was on his bed that Bo and Femi’s words fully penetrated and he comprehended the situation. A ransom had been paid but he and Bård hadn’t been released. This wasn’t going to be over any time soon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I still don’t understand why you don’t want me to come with you.” Magnus was pacing around the office, his arms were uncharacteristically gesticulating as he peppered Calle with questions.. A large piece of luggage was sitting near the door, making the small office even less spacious for anyone, much less the larger man, to move around. For the third time in as many minutes, Calle ducked his head out of the way of a wildly swinging arm.

 

Yesterday, when they first got the call that Anders and Lars had been released, Calle felt relief flood over him. In fact, the whole office had been ecstatic. But then, after waiting a few more hours and numerous phone calls with TVNorge’s legal team, and Ngozi, and the Enugu authorities, it had become clear that Anders and Lars were the only ones who had been released. The office had gone from a happy buzz to stunned silence. A couple secretaries had started crying and, not certain that he’d be able to keep it together if he had to see their tears, Calle had quickly sent them home. That was about when he had decided that he needed to go to Nigeria himself. Within half an hour he had bought an outrageously expensive next-day airfare, canceled the few things that hadn’t already been put on hold due to the brother’s absence, and left the office to go home and pack. What he hadn’t done was tell Magnus of his plans.

 

“Mikael is coming with me. His friend, Ngozi, has been doing everything he can on his end to locate Vegard and Bård. It would be more helpful for you to stay here.” Calle was hurriedly putting various pieces of paper into a folder: phone numbers and emails for people in Nigeria that he’d been in contact with over the last two weeks, information he’d gathered over the same period of time that he thought might be useful - including contact information for some professional negotiators who specialized in negotiating the release of hostages. He had all of the same information on his phone and his computer, these were just hard copy backups in case something happened to his devices or in case he had difficulty accessing the internet. Calle wasn’t usually quite so obsessive compulsive about such things, but then it had recently been proven to him that everything can turn south in a heartbeat. In addition, he packed documents for himself as well as documents and photos of the brothers that he’d been advised might be of help.

 

“Well, why can’t Mikael be the one to stay here? Vegard and Bård are my friends too, he’s just friends with... Gamozi?”

 

“It’s Ngozi.” Calle answered without lifting his head. He was rummaging purposefully through his desk drawers, obviously looking for something important.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Finally, he found what he had been looking for… his passport. He stuffed the folder into his leather messenger bag along with his laptop and various power cords, and then slipped his passport into the outside pocket.  “Look, if… I mean _when_ the ransom demand comes, it would be helpful to have someone here to help coordinate it. Someone who actually cares about them and will make sure it gets done right and on time.” Calle still wasn’t really looking at Magnus. He was looking through the various piles on his desk, trying to see if he was forgetting anything important.

 

“Wouldn’t you rather have me come along?”

 

He really didn’t want to answer that. It wasn’t exactly that he didn’t want him there, but Magnus was very emotionally invested in this - just as he himself was. He needed someone with him who wasn’t quite so close to the situation, who could be his support, if he was going to be able to cope at all. Calle finally looked up and sighed. “Magnus. I’m sorry. I need you to stay here. I can’t actually stop you from getting a ticket and going to Nigeria, but I’m asking you to stay here. Mikael lived in Nigeria for a few years, he’ll be able to help me talk to the right people. You’ll be more help to me here.”

 

Magnus was looking at him with those sad puppy dog eyes. He really knew how to turn them on for comedic effect, but this time they seemed completely sincere. If Calle hadn’t been so convinced that it would be better if Magnus stayed behind, he might have folded and asked him to come along. But this wasn’t about what would make Magnus feel good, or even about not hurting his feelings. This could very well be about the life or death of his friends and Calle could only worry about that right now.

 

“I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I arrive… if you want me to.”

 

Magnus nodded his head slightly and then left Calle’s office without a word. Calle sat on the edge of his desk and rubbed his forehead. He had yet another headache. It had become pretty much a daily routine over the past two weeks.

 

“Are you alright?” Mikael was in his doorway with a concerned look on his face.

 

“Yes. I just… I guess this is getting to me.”

 

Mikael nodded. “I know. That’s why I wanted to come with you.” Mikael approached Calle and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on. I’ve got a cab coming to take us to the airport. You can sleep on the flight.”

 

A skeptical huff escaped Calle. It was somewhere between a pathetic laugh and an even more pathetic attempt at not crying.“Yeah, well, I don’t know…” He wasn’t sure when he had last slept.

 

Mikael pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills from his jacket pocket. “Oh, I’m almost sure of it. Come on.”

 

Mikael grabbed the luggage and headed out as Calle picked up his computer bag and swept his eyes over his desk one last time. He walked hurriedly down the hall, trying to catch up to Mikael. When he passed Magnus’s office he could see that Magnus had intentionally turned his back to the hallway. It was just as well. There wasn’t anything that he could say right now that would make Magnus feel better about this. Hopefully, he would be able to help secure the brothers’ freedom and Magnus would forgive him eventually.

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again...sorry for the slow update. I honestly wasn't trying to keep you hanging. 
> 
> I feel like a broken record, but I sincerely thank you for your support. Your kudos and comments mean so much and really encourage me. So, thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

Sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night, Vegard forgot where he was. Usually, he quickly realized that he wasn’t at home, but often his first thought was that he and Bård were traveling somewhere for work. When he looked around to get his bearings, he was always surprised by his brother's absence. Then it would all come back to him and the anxiety due to their separation would rush over him anew, which made falling back to sleep an impossibility.

 

Tonight when he woke up, his anxiety was particularly intense and his mind started racing immediately. He wondered if Bård was able to sleep and if he was still in the same basement room, sleeping on the floor. He wondered what, if anything, was happening with the ransom. It had been 19 days since he’d seen Bård. It seemed like so much longer. Too many things could have happened since then. He wondered if Bård was alright, if he was eating, if they had hurt him and if they would release him, well…  both of them, when they got another ransom. Every time he tried to calm himself down another worry popped into his head, and soon his thoughts went back to the day of their kidnapping, as they all too often did.

 

From the moment he heard the first automatic gunfire, Vegard knew they were in trouble. Any glimmer of hope that they might get away was extinguished when he saw the vehicle blocking the road in front of them. He reached out and held his brother’s wrist, which was probably as much to comfort himself as it was to comfort Bård. There really wasn’t anything that they could do, other than to go along with it and try not to get hurt. Still, when he saw the van door fly open and an arm shoot in, he was totally unprepared to have Bård pulled out of his grasp. At the moment, that was the worst feeling he’d ever had in his life.

 

But it was about to get much worse.

 

He barely remembered Jumoke being killed. That part was a blur. The next thing he knew, he was trying to comfort Liam and slow down the bleeding from his injury. How he missed that Bård had been pulled away from their group was still beyond him. The sound of Jaja’s grunt drew his attention away from Liam. He turned around and saw Jaja kneeling on the ground and Bård standing next to him. It took him seeing his brother being kicked behind the knees to understand the reason for Jaja’s outburst. And it took him at least a couple more seconds to comprehend what was happening. When he thought about it later, he wasn’t sure why it had been such a surprise. A group of men, armed with automatic weapons, had descended upon their film crew, almost from out of nowhere. They’d already killed Jumoke and shot Liam, why had he been surprised that they might take more lives?

 

He jumped up, intending to run over to his brother... to protect him... to stop this. He needed to stop this. But before he’d taken more than two steps Lars and Anders grabbed him and held him back. On some level he understood that they were trying to protect him, but they didn’t understand... he needed to get to his brother.

 

A gunshot rang out and he saw Jaja fall on his face, blood quickly pooling around his head. He tried frantically to free himself from the hold his co-workers' had on his arms. When that failed, all he could do was shout, hoping that somehow his voice alone could stop the gunman from killing his brother right before his eyes. The man who had just killed Jaja turned his gun and pointed it at the back of Bård’s head. The look on his brother’s face was surprisingly calm, and when he heard Bård say that it was alright, it was clear to Vegard that his brother was trying to make sure that he would be alright... _afterwards_. After _it_ had happened. _After Bård was dead_.

 

Time can be a strange thing. Sometimes it seems to slow down and speed up at will - and usually conversely from what you might be hoping for at the moment. If he could have done something to help Bård, the complete slowdown of time would have been welcome, but instead it just meant that he had twice as long to experience the horror of what was about to happen. It was his own private hell.

 

His eyes were locked onto his brother’s blue ones. How many times had he looked into those eyes? They had shared so much, countless times, often with just with a glance. He didn’t want to watch this, he didn’t want to see the light go out of those eyes, but he had no choice. If he couldn’t be beside Bård to comfort him, at least he could share his last moments. He felt like the floor was dropping out from under his world. Then he heard the distinctive click... the gun had jammed. Before he’d really had time to process it, he saw his brother being pulled to his feet and dragged toward him. He could see that Bård was in shock. When he saw Bård stumble, he rushed toward him and caught him.

 

He had always loved his little brother, but he had never been so happy to have Bård in front of him as he was in that moment. Bård was shaking and didn't seem to hear him and Vegard felt an overwhelming need to protect him. Without realizing it, his hand found its way to the back of Bård’s head, and he had put himself between his brother and the gunmen. Only seconds ago he had been certain that he was watching the last moments of his brother’s life. He hugged Bård tightly, and tried to catch his breath.

 

Just like the other times he had thought through that sequence of events, it didn’t change anything, and it certainly didn’t make him feel any better. There were so many regrets tugging at him, but he tried to put them aside for now and think more positively. It had been over three weeks since their kidnapping and more than a week since Anders and Lars had been released. It had to happen for the two of them soon. Maybe today would be the day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

There was a potato omelet and a serving of fried plantains on his plate. The cheese-free omelet had been made especially for him, filled with plenty of mushrooms and onions, and covered with pinwheels of sliced peppers. It looked delicious and the aroma was enticing. At least it would have been enticing, if he’d had any appetite at all. Calle had thanked his host for the food when it was put in front him, but that was ten minutes ago and he still hadn’t taken a bite. He was thinking over the events of the last week.

 

He and Mikael had arrived in Enugu just over a week ago. Ngozi met them at the airport. They were exhausted from their long flight, but it had only been two days since Lars and Anders had been released, and they wanted to see for themselves that their fellow norwegians were alright.

 

Anders and Lars had been discharged from the hospital, just the day before, after being kept overnight for observation. Ngozi had arrived at the hospital early that morning, to assist them in finding their belongings and getting flights back to Norway. However, Lars was insistent that he wanted to stay in Enugu until everyone had been released. Anders meekly nodded and said something almost inaudible in agreement with Lars, so Ngozi had helped them find a hotel that was close to his house.

 

Lars answered the door when Calle and his two companions got to the hotel room. Lars was known around TVNorge as someone who needed his space and was willing to shell out a little extra money, if need be, to have his own hotel room, so they were a little surprised to find that he was sharing a room with Anders. The younger man was sitting in a chair, far away from the door, with a worried look on his face. They may have been left physically unharmed from their ordeal, but Calle could see at a glance that they were emotionally shaken.

 

He knew he should ask how they were doing, and he did, but he was anxious to hear about the abduction. After only a few follow-up questions about their condition he shifted the subject to the kidnapping. Lars went through the story from the first warning shot to the locking of his prison cell, step by step. It was the first time they had heard that Bård was almost executed during the first few minutes of the confrontation. After that revelation, Calle went silent and Mikael had to ask all the questions. Anders didn’t remember much about the actual kidnapping at all. He became upset that he couldn’t remember more and had to be reassured that he just needed to recover and that maybe it would come back to him in a few days. Lars, appearing to be a bit protective of Anders, suggested that they meet up again the next day, so Calle and Mikael followed Ngozi to his car and went straight to his house.

 

The car pulled into the driveway of a small story-and-a-half bungalow. Calle noticed that most of the houses they had passed didn’t have lawns and Ngozi’s house was no different. Instead there were bricks laid out in an herringbone pattern that covered the majority of his small frontyard along with a few heat-loving plants in pots near the front door.

 

Liam was sitting in the front room, his leg elevated with the aid of a footstool and a few pillows. He had been recovering at Ngozi’s home for over a week, after spending five days in the hospital. Of course the first thing Calle inquired about was Liam’s injury and how it was healing, but after only a brief answer, Liam himself changed the subject to the kidnapping.

 

He shared his story with Calle and Mikael, as he had already done over the phone, but he had nothing new to add. His story really ended with him being shot, because after that the next thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital. Since arriving at Ngozi’s house he had been doing what he could, in his immobile state, to press the police into action. Ngozi had been gently suggesting that he return to Norway to recover for the past few days, but he echoed Lars’s sentiment of wanting to stay in Enugu until everyone had been released.

 

That evening, after Liam (who looked pale and appeared to be exhausted) had gone to bed, Calle and Mikael discussed his condition with Ngozi. Ngozi was concerned that Liam wasn’t resting enough. He had been spending all of his waking hours trying to find his kidnapped co-workers.

 

The next morning, after much persuasion, Liam agreed that he might recover better under his wife’s care. And, after pointing out that Liam needed help to travel and that Anders really needed to go home, Lars agreed to accompany them back to Norway.

 

Since then, Ngozi had taken them all over Enugu, given them full use of his car and spent countless hours on the phone trying to help them get information. Calle had quickly come to understand why Mikael and Ngozi were such good friends. Ngozi had been nothing but kind and supportive since they had arrived.

 

A gentle hand on his back brought him back to the moment. He was in a small, sunny kitchen sitting across from Mikael.

 

“Is there something different that you would like, Calle?” Ngozi was looking down at him with almost fatherly concern.

 

"No, thank you. I guess I'm not very hungry." Calle attempted to smile and play off his bad mood.

 

Ngozi was definitely not buying it. “You need to eat. You won't be able to help your friends if you don't. Mikael, talk to him.”

 

Mikael sighed. "He's right, Calle. You should try to eat something. Coffee isn't going to be enough.”

 

Mikael was trying to sound upbeat, but Calle knew that his new friend was becoming discouraged, just like he was. They had both noticed the somewhat disinterested air of the police department, who seemed to think that there wasn’t much to be done when it came to the kidnappings of foreigners.

 

Mikael and Ngozi were watching him, waiting for an answer. "Ok. I'll try." After the first bite it became a little easier, Ngozi was quite a good cook. Soon Calle had eaten most of the omelet and all of the fried plantain slices on his plate, then they each got another cup of coffee and took it with them into Ngozi’s office. The office wasn’t anything fancy, it was very much like the rooms in rest of the home, a little on the small side but clean and uncluttered, and painted a cheerful, light yellow. Ngozi sat at his desk and Mikael and Calle each took one of the comfortable, upholstered chairs that sat opposite the desk, and then they began their daily strategy session.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Since he’d been separated from Bård, Vegard had done his best to keep track of what day it was and how many days it had been since they’d been taken hostage. He had nothing but time on his hands so he also kept track of how many days it had been since Anders and Lars had been released and what days Bo visited and, of course, how many days it had been since he’d seen his brother. He had no way of writing it all down so he just had to remember the numbers and days of the week in his head, which he thought was probably a good mental exercise.

 

He also tried to keep track of the comings and goings of the guards: when they took their breaks, when there were less people on duty (Friday evenings), where they tended to stand guard (at least from what he could observe through his window). He had taken particular note of the nightly changing of the guard, which happened every evening at about the same time. It was funny to think that the kidnappers might think of this as a job, as if they were working at a factory or selling vegetables at the market, but he could only assume that some of the guards headed home to see their families - and maybe watch a little TV - after their day at “the office”.

 

Each night when the day-shift guards left and the night-shift guards took over, those who had just arrived always seemed to head into Big Bosi’s office for what he assumed was a meeting. Who knew? Maybe they all had a favorite game show or wanted to watch **_Nigerian Idol_**. Maybe they watched an educational video about new ways to bind your captives hands. Whatever they were doing usually took from ten to thirty minutes.

 

It had been 30 days, a whole month, since he’d been separated from Bård. He was surprised to find that it seemed to get more difficult rather than easier as time passed. The only thing that made it bearable was seeing Dayo twice a week and hearing that Bård was still alright. Today was Tuesday and he usually saw Dayo on Tuesdays and Saturdays, so he had been looking forward to the evening meal since early in the morning when he’d finally given up on sleep. However, Vegard was starting to notice that his memory, among other things, was becoming affected by his prolonged captivity and now that it was almost time for Dayo to arrive he was struggling to remember if it really was Tuesday, or if it was only Monday.

 

He heard some movement outside and when the door opened, he was relieved to see that Dayo was there with his evening meal. “Dayo, hello. It’s good to see you.” Honestly he hated the man. He never lost sight of the fact that Dayo was aligned with the kidnappers. But Dayo was his connection to Bård and it just made sense to stay on his good side, so Vegard kept playing the game.

 

“Hello. I have your meal.”

 

Vegard got up and took his bowl from Dayo. He had been surprised, over the last few weeks, to see that Dayo would stand and wait for him to come and get his bowl instead of setting it on the floor. For some reason, he was pretty sure that Bård had something to do with it. “How is my brother? Have you seen him?”

 

“Yes. He is fine.”

 

“Did he send a message?”

 

“Yes. He told me to tell you that he was well and happy and that you should not worry.”

 

“Did he say anything else?”

 

“Uh… no. Just that you should relax and wait for the ransom to be paid.”

 

Usually when he asked Dayo if his brother had sent a message he would just shake his head. Vegard had been troubled by that, unsure if Dayo had actually seen Bård, or if Bård was sick or injured and had been unable to send a message, or something worse. Still, he had tried to believe Dayo when he said that Bård was fine because to believe otherwise would have destroyed him.

 

So, he should have been happy to finally receive a message. But the “message” that Dayo had just given him was all wrong. Bård would never say he was “well and happy”, not even if he were on vacation and he actually was “well” and “happy”. It didn’t sound like Bård. Also “don’t worry” and “relax” didn’t make much sense, not in this situation. Vegard considered for a moment whether it could be some kind of code, but usually if they spoke in shorthand, they immediately got each other’s references. There was no way that his brother had told Dayo to say any of that. Which either meant that Dayo had never asked for a message or that he had changed Bård’s message. None of what Dayo had said made any sense, so Vegard had to dismiss all of it as a fabrication.

 

Vegard wouldn’t have thought so before, but hearing a fake message from Bård was way worse than no message at all. It made him question (even more than he already had) Dayo’s assertion that Bård was fine. He couldn’t think of anything else to say after the “message” that was so obviously a lie, so Dayo left him alone with his food and his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

It was difficult to believe that they had already been in Nigeria for three weeks. Even though they were busy every day and drained every evening, Calle felt like they’d been spinning their wheels since the day they arrived. The police had gotten a few leads, which had given him brief periods of hope, but they had all turned out to be nothing.

 

The news from Norway hadn’t been any better. There had been some contact from the kidnappers, at about the same time he and Mikael had arrived in Enugu. They accused TVNorge of doing something wrong when they paid the ransom and said that was why they had only released two of the four hostages. It didn’t really matter that it was a lie, it didn’t change the fact that Bård and Vegard were still missing.

 

Four days later, the kidnappers said that they wanted more money, but then they stopped all contact with TVNorge for almost two weeks. The last time Calle talked to the legal department at TVNorge, they told him that it was a common tactic, especially in this part of the world, to let time and lack of communication create even more anxiety about the hostages. Calle thought if that was their intent, it was working.

 

Ngozi sat down at the kitchen table pulling Calle’s thoughts back to the moment. Mikael had finished eating and was leaning back in his chair, thinking. He turned to Ngozi, his eyes squinting as if he were dreading what he was about to say. “Tell me again how well you know Eli.”

 

“Eli? Well, I actually went to school with him when we were much younger, second through fifth grade I believe. He was a funny kid. Kind of goofy, but nice.” Ngozi took a sip of his coffee and seemed thoughtful. “Over the last fifteen years or so, since I moved back from college, I see him every once in a while. We travel in some of the same circles, so at certain times I see him quite a bit, at holiday parties and the like.”

 

“What do you know about his business? Is he successful? Do you think money is tight for him?”

 

“Mikael. You met him. We went over there the day after you arrived.” Ngozi was looking at him incredulously.

 

“I know. But I don’t feel like I know him.” Mikael glanced away looking uncomfortable, as if questioning Ngozi’s friend’s integrity was the same as questioning Ngozi’s.

Ngozi didn’t seem to take it that way though. He sat thoughtfully before he answered. “Eli is quite a character. Everybody knows him and he knows everybody. He likes to connect people who might have common interests, which is why his job is perfect for him. But he often uses those skills just to be helpful. If you need to move a large piece of furniture, he knows a guy with a pickup truck. If you want to buy a car, he knows a guy who’ll give you a deal. If you’re sick and your doctor is at a loss, he can get you in to see the specialist the next day.” Ngozi paused and was quiet for a while. “He’s not one of my closest friends. I guess I can’t be certain that he wasn’t involved in the kidnapping, but I would be shocked if he were. He’s kind of a simple guy, everything he thinks comes out of his mouth the next second. I’m not sure if he could keep a secret if his life depended on it. I find it hard to believe he’s involved.”

 

Mikael sighed. It wasn't that he wanted Eli to have been involved, he just wondered if they’d missed something. “And Boseda?”

 

“I don’t know Boseda, not personally. But he is very well known for his movies, not just here but throughout Nigeria. I’m not sure what someone like him would be doing kidnapping people.”

 

Mikael nodded.

 

“Do you think we should talk to Eli again? Maybe he’s thought of something.” Calle wasn’t sure if going back to people they’d already talked to was the direction that they should take, but they didn’t seem to have another plan. They all agreed that talking to Eli was the best idea they had, so Ngozi gave him a call.

 

Eli was more than happy to meet with them again and was his chatty self. “I’ve been wondering what was happening. I heard that Lars and... Anders was it?... had been released. I can’t believe that they didn’t let them all go. Well, no. Those bastards! I guess it wouldn’t make sense to trust that they would follow the rules.”   

 

Calle smiled, politely. He had thought the exact same thing. “Eli, have you thought of anything else since we last talked? Anything that seemed strange or out of place? Anyone who acted oddly?” Calle shook his head slightly. “Just… anything?”

 

“No. I’m sorry, nothing specific. But I have thought that there are other people you probably haven’t talked to. I know a few of the restaurants that they ate in. Maybe one of the waitresses saw something or knows of a customer that is… unsavory. And the acting school. There are a lot of people that work there, and actors that hang around waiting to get parts. Maybe one of them saw something. Maybe one of them needed some money.”

 

Eli offered to take them to all of the places that he could remember visiting with Bård and Vegard and the crew. As they drove around, he pointed out places of interest and shared things about his life, some of which were humorous - he won a whistling contest at the age of ten (a fact which Ngozi remembered and verified) for which the prize was a year’s supply of laundry soap (which was a bit of a disappointment to the ten-year-old Eli) - some of which were strange - he had once had the hiccups for over a month and only got rid of them when his cousin’s overzealous horseplay almost drowned him in a pool - and some of which were just plain inappropriate - like when he pointed out the apartment building where his father’s mistress had lived and sometimes babysat for him.

 

They were able to question a number of people throughout the afternoon, many of whom did remember seeing the film crew and the brothers, but at the end of the day they didn’t have any new leads. What they did leave with was a better mood since, even though they felt guilty that they were having fun, they had laughed at Eli and his comments for almost five hours that day.  

 

After they dropped Eli off, Calle started giggling uncontrollably. Mikael covered his eyes and shook his head as he joined in the laughter.

 

Ngozi glanced at Mikael good-naturedly. “So, what do you think? Is Eli a suspect?”

 

“I hope not! He is hysterical!” Mikael giggled some more and then added, “I can see what you meant about him not being able to keep a secret. There were a few things he told us that I could have lived without knowing.”

 

Calle piped up from the back seat, “I know. When he was talking about how his toe got infected and was festering…”

 

“Shut up, Calle! I just got that image out of my head!” Mikael was laughing, but he felt a little sick remembering all the detail Eli had gone into.

 

“Well, at least he’s going to talk to everyone he knows, which according to you, Ngozi, is just about everyone. Right?” Calle reached from the back seat and patted Ngozi’s shoulder.

  
“He does know a lot of people. Hopefully, something will turn up.” Ngozi smiled at Mikael and Calle, but the upbeat mood that Eli’s silliness had caused was already fading away. As they pulled into Ngozi’s driveway, Calle realized that once again they were back to square one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is continuing to read this. I really do appreciate all of your support!
> 
> Another chapter is almost ready. So, hopefully, it won't be too long.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised... another chapter.

The guard was standing outside of his shower stall. "Hurry up!"

 

At least, that is what Vegard assumed was the meaning behind the guard's words. He had noticed the guard tapping his foot impatiently for the last couple of minutes. Vegard supposed he should take the armed man’s request more seriously, but after so much time in captivity he had become somewhat numb to having a gun pointed in his direction. The shower was warm and soothing, and a somewhat rare treat that only occurred once a week or so. He really wasn't in a hurry to be done with it. Vegard kept his eyes down so as not to acknowledge the guard’s instruction.

 

The shower area was located directly behind the building that held Big Bosi’s…  that is, “Femi’s” office. Even though Vegard now knew that the leader of his captors was named Femi, he still tended to think of him as Big Bosi. The shower enclosure was made of wooden slats that ran horizontally, the middle third of the barrier was a solid wall, whereas the top and bottom thirds had spaces between each slat. If Vegard stood in the shower with his back to the office, he could see a screen porch to his left. It was attached to the small house in which he was being held. The few feet between the screen porch and Big Bosi’s office, as well as the other two sides of the small shower area, were fortified by a tall fence.  The only way out of the fenced-in space was the same way that he had gotten there, through the screen porch. So, unless he were suddenly able to high jump over the eight-foot-tall barrier, Vegard wasn’t going anywhere right now.

 

He heard the guard sigh loudly and then walk away from the shower. There was a familiar _thwap_ sound as the young gunman stepped into the nearby screen porch and allowed the screen door to swing shut behind him. The guards often went inside the screen porch, while he took his shower, to grab a Coke out of the old-fashioned soda dispenser that sat against the back wall of the porch. Sometimes they came back out and sat in the shade on the small stoop that led to the porch, but usually they sat down at the round plastic table on the porch and smoked a cigarette while they drank their soda directly out of the bottle. Vegard always preferred the latter choice because it allowed him just a little more time in the relaxing spray. He had learned that if he turned off the shower and began to dry off just before the guard finished his cola, the guard would usually remain in the screen porch and allow him a few more moments alone. He had just grabbed his towel off the hook when he heard some muffled voices coming from the building behind him.  

 

"Why didn't you tell me that?!?"

 

"I didn’t think it mattered."

 

"So you’re telling that me he's been here? The whole time? Each time I came to talk to you, he was being held in one of those rooms? I thought you were holding him and his brother at the drop site."

 

"We were, but I didn't want them to be together. Separating the hostages makes them easier to control and harder to rescue."

 

"So he may have seen me here?"

 

There was a pause before Vegard heard an exasperated voice reply.  "I don't think that has happened, Bo. You worry too much."

 

" _I worry too much?_ Uhhh! Sometimes you're so careless. If he has seen me here, he could identify me to the police!"

 

"Bo! Calm down."

 

"I'm not going down alone, you know, Femi."

 

"You're my brother. You'd turn me in?"

 

There was a silence that extended long enough that Vegard was afraid they had moved to a place that was out of his earshot.  

 

Finally, he heard the reply. "No. You know I wouldn't do that. But I want you to protect me, like I would you."

 

"Alright. Don't worry. After we get paid, I'll make sure that he doesn't tell anyone what he may have seen."

 

"Are you about done?" The voice came from just outside of the shower stall, and only sounded mildly irritated, so that was Vegard’s best guess at the translation. Vegard looked up surprised and nodded. He hadn't noticed the guard approaching, since he was completely focused on the conversation going on behind him. To his relief, Bo and Big Bosi seemed to have finished their conversation and the guard didn't appear to be aware that he had heard anything.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that he doesn’t tell anyone._ Vegard felt slightly sick. He closed his eyes and thought about his options. He had contemplated escape before. Back when he was being held with Bård it had seemed too risky. He had been so sure that they would be released quickly. In retrospect, maybe his brother had been right. They should have tried to escape together.

 

Vegard rubbed his face. _The time to plot an escape would be if it appears like they don’t plan on releasing you._ That was one of the points that had been drilled into his head during his hostage survival training. Up until now, he hadn’t been sure if he should attempt it or not. But now, his chances of being released seemed to have diminished from slim to none. He thought through every idea he had come up with so far. None of the options seemed to offer him even a 50/50 chance of survival.

 

Vegard got off of his bed and started pacing.  He needed to come up with a new plan… or hope for someone to make a mistake. It might not take much. Someone forgetting to lock his door could just be enough. But, getting out of his room was just the first step. He still had to get away from the small compound where he was being held, and from what he could see it was situated in the middle of a dry, desolate area, without much in the way of large plants or buildings to use as cover. That being the case, he knew that he needed to escape when it was dark.

 

Thinking about escape made him feel a little guilty. Every other time, when he contemplated his escape, he had always tried to consider Bård into his plan, but he still had no idea where Bård was. He hated to admit it to himself, but right now he was of no use to his brother. He thought about it some more and tried to convince himself that Bård _was_ safe, or at least relatively safe. He probably had no clue that Bo was involved in the kidnapping. Big Bosi would have no reason not to release Bård when the ransom came through. Vegard thought about that for a minute. It made some sense, and it definitely made him feel better, except he couldn’t totally believe it. The kidnappers had released two people from their group, it wasn’t impossible that they would do likewise with Bård, but he didn’t trust them. Dayo was the only one that he had really gotten to know, and he felt like he trusted him less and less each day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s been _seven_ weeks! What _have_ you found out? I’d like to know.” Calle was getting worked up. He and Mikael had been talking to the main detective on the case for the past five minutes. The detective was a large man, and did not look pleased by Calle’s questioning.

 

“Calle. Keep your voice down.” Mikael had a hand on Calle’s shoulder and was trying to calm him down.

 

“I told you, we are looking into it. The kidnappers are very good at what they do. It’s not just a couple of people who did this on the spur of the moment, it’s a large organization which carries out detailed plans and is armed with automatic weapons. Probably thirty or more people are directly involved, plus a large network of people who are willing to assist them for a price. They have resources to move their hostages around the city and around the country. They have money to buy off witnesses. And, if that doesn’t work, they have guns to intimidate them into holding their tongues.”

 

“Oh. So, have they bought off any of y…”

 

“Calle!” Mikael jerked Calle’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry Detective. We’re very worried about our friends.”

 

“I understand.” The detective looked down at his desk and sighed. “Mr. Larsen and Mr. ….”

 

“Amundsen,” Mikael interjected.

 

“...and Mr. Amundsen, I am not proud to say that there is corruption in our department. It is the same all throughout Nigeria. But, I can assure you that I am doing my best to find your friends. Unfortunately, the kidnappers always seem to be one step ahead of us, covering their tracks. It is frustrating for us, too. You have been to the site of the abduction, yes? It is surrounded by apartment buildings. There had to have been fifty to eighty people in those buildings at the time of the abduction. Gunshots were reported from blocks away, but not one person saw a thing. People are scared to say anything, and I can’t say I blame them.”

 

“But couldn’t you protect a witness?” Calle had calmed down. He no longer sounded angry, just desperate.

 

“Of course. But, as I’ve admitted to you, there is corruption on the force so people don’t trust us. Besides, usually it’s not just protecting a witness, it’s protecting their family. And we can do that, we can protect a single family, but they have mothers and brothers and cousins…” The detective shook his head, obviously frustrated. “Most of them are good people. It’s not that they want to protect the kidnappers, they just want to protect their families.”

 

Calle fell silent. He could understand all of that, but it didn’t help Bård and Vegard at all.

 

“Is there something else that you would suggest we do?” Mikael’s voice sounded as defeated as Calle felt.

 

“Right now it’s a matter of patience. They aren’t communicating much so not only are we unable to negotiate with them, they aren’t giving us any new leads. No phone calls to trace or cell phones to locate, not even any emails from cyber cafes. I wish I had better news for you.”

 

Calle and Mikael headed back to Ngozi’s house, more discouraged than ever.

 

* * *

 

 

Vegard was running. They had long ago taken his shoes, so he was barefoot. Walking around barefoot for so many weeks had made his feet pretty tough, but running in the dark over such an uneven surface was still painful. There were small rocks that randomly bit at his feet and ruts in the unpaved road which surprised him and more than once caused him to stumble. Every once in a while he would stop, crouch as low to the ground as possible and hold his breath, listening intently for any sounds of vehicles or voices that might be a search party. When he was satisfied that no one was coming yet, he would stand up and run a little further.

 

He hadn’t been certain of how he would find his way back to town, but once he had gotten away from the lights around the small compound where he had been held, he could see the glow of a more populated area being reflected in the clouds of the night sky.

 

A few days had passed since it had become clear that he needed to escape. He hadn’t been able to come up with a good plan, and really hadn’t had the opportunity to try one of his mediocre ones. But today an idea suddenly came to Vegard, and he went with it. He had been trying to figure out a way of blocking the door from closing all the way - just enough so that it wouldn’t lock properly but not so much that the guards might notice it. Maybe a small pebble or some paper, something he could use as a barrier, but his room was very clean and there were no pebbles on the tile floor. He might have been able to get some paper if he asked, but hadn’t been able to figure out a clever way to use it. If the guard noticed something out of place, if it was obvious that he was attempting an escape, he might never get a second chance. So whatever he decided to do, he had to make his first attempt count.

 

This morning he had been disappointed to see the return of breakfast mush. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but thought that perhaps the “cook” (a term that you could only use loosely in describing that particular person) from the other location was substituting today. He hoped that it meant that the cook who’d been preparing his meals recently was cooking something where Bård was being held, but thought that it was unlikely. Vegard had realized a while ago that the reason his food was so good was probably because it was the same food that Big Bosi ate. It seemed unlikely that Big Bosi would send his cook to another location.

 

Vegard had forgotten just how unappetising this food was. Looking at the yellowish-grey substance in his bowl reminded him of how often Bård had compared the mush to putty. His brother had gone into long ramblings of how it would be perfect for home repairs and how they should patent it when they got home. Every time Bård had talked about his “ **Miracle Home Goo** (patent pending)” it sent Vegard into a giggling fit, often leaving him in tears, which he realized was part of why Bård had done it.

 

Bård had also suggested that the mush would make a great ball. (He said that would be the selling point that would win over the most reluctant buyer. “It can fix your leaky roof, repair the crack in your wall _aaaand_ it’s _GREAT_ for the _kids_!” He considered advertising that it was made out of a non-toxic material, but then decided that he couldn’t, in good conscience, make that claim.) Bård had tried to convince Vegard that it would bounce quite nicely and had suggested that they could make their cell into a handball court. (Which probably had been in response to one of his suggestions that Bård should exercise, although he couldn’t remember for sure.)

 

Bård had even joked that they should take their entire morning meal and create a bevy of balls, bounce them up and out of the window and hopefully attract enough attention to their plight that they would be rescued. Bård had tried to entice him into participating in “The Plan” by suggesting that he think of it as a physics problem, in which he’d have to decide how hard to throw the balls, and the angle necessary, for them to bounce straight out between the bars of the small window. But that was early in their captivity and Vegard had insisted that Bård needed to eat all of his food rather than play with it. He chuckled remembering the disappointed look that Bård had given him. Bård hated to have his ideas squelched so quickly.

 

As he thought about Bård’s various, and increasingly humorous, descriptions of the food and it's other possible uses, Bård's favorite description - putty - kept coming back to mind and sparked an idea for a plan. He hid a portion of his food under his bed until the guard came and picked up his tray and then he kept his stash of food in his hand all day, occasionally spitting on it, trying to keep it from completely drying out so that it would still be of use come supper time.

 

He was caught off-guard when the gunman carrying his dinner tray entered his room, and hid the disgusting ball of partially dried up mush in his mouth to keep it out of sight. He realized later that he might have been able to keep the ball hidden in his hand, but the guard’s sudden entrance had provoked an unfortunate split-second decision.

 

After having that disgusting thing in his mouth, it was difficult to think about eating. But he always ate all of his food and he didn’t want to attract any extra attention to himself, so he forced himself to swallow it all. When he had finished, he put the bowl on the tray and moved the tray a little further away from the door. Then he went over near the door, hoping to make it appear as if he had decided to do a few exercises. Exercising immediately after eating didn’t make the most sense, but he needed some excuse to be near the door so that it wouldn’t look so suspicious.

 

When the guard came back, his eyes were drawn into the room by the tray and he didn’t notice Vegard who was standing with his back flat against the wall, just a little more than arm’s-length away from the door frame. As the guard approached the tray, Vegard took the opportunity to quickly wedge a small amount of his “putty” into the door jam. Then he quickly slid his back down the wall into a squat position and held it as if he’d been doing a wall-sit exercise. As soon as he reached that position he began regretting his choice of alibi-exercise (because he never did that exercise, because he hated it, because he couldn’t hold the position for very long, because he never did that exercise) and he was grateful to see the guard jump in surprise when he realized where Vegard was standing, and then all but drop the tray to grab his gun. The guard indicated with the muzzle of his weapon that Vegard should move away from the door, and Vegard happily complied.

 

A couple minutes after the guard had left with the tray, Vegard quietly walked up to the door and tried to open it. The doorknob didn’t turn, it was locked. But when he gave the door a gentle tug it opened easily. Due to the putty, the latch had never gone all the way into the doorjamb. For the first time ever, he was grateful for his breakfast mush.

 

It was difficult but Vegard forced himself to wait for almost an hour, until he saw the nightly changing of the guard, to make his move. As soon as the last gunman entered Big Bosi’s office, Vegard slipped out of his room and out the front door and started running.

* * *

 

 

He had been running for 30 minutes now and was completely out of breath. He’d been intending to start working out before they came on this trip, but honestly, it wouldn’t have made much difference. He’d tried to exercise every day, but there was so little space in his room for aerobics and, if he were to be honest, little by little he’d lost his initial motivation to keep in shape. The longer their captivity had dragged on, the less hope he’d had that they would both get out alive. Even at that moment, as he was running toward freedom, he was torn about whether he wanted to get away. If he escaped only to find that Bård had been killed, he would wish he’d just stayed put and accepted his fate.

 

After another fifteen minutes, fatigue was setting in. He had thought he would be closer to Enugu by now. He had very little else to think about so he started to calculate how long it might take to get there. First he tried to estimate how far the compound, where he had been held, was from Enugu. He thought that when he was moved away from Bård, he had been driven for no more than twenty minutes before they got him back out of the vehicle. If they were driving 80 kilometers per hour for most of the drive, the compound could be as much as 27 kilometers away from Enugu. If he could run a kilometer in five minutes - which would be a generous estimate considering how often he stopped to listen for a search party - he might already have traveled 9 kilometers in the last 45 minutes. That meant that he needed to run up to twice that far again, another hour and a half. Which meant it would be longer than that, because there was no way he could keep up this pace for that long.  

 

When he had finished his calculations, he chided himself for figuring that out. Now it just seemed all the more impossible. He would get there when he got there.

 

He stopped running to crouch down again. Somewhere along the way the breaks, which he was taking to listen for people who might be tracking him, had become just as much about trying to catch his breath. Each time he stopped he seemed to rest for just a little longer, and each time that he made himself stand up and run again he felt less and less like he was ready to go on.

 

He reminded himself that he needed to stay positive. If he could get back to safety, he could get help for Bård.

 

Vegard looked over his shoulder. He didn’t see any lights approaching yet.

 

Ngozi would help him, he was pretty sure of that. Maybe if someone drove him around he’d recognize it, the place where he and his brother had first been held. It seemed so long ago.

 

How many weeks had it been now? Seven? Eight? What made him think that Bård was still where he last saw him? Tears came to his eyes, and he stopped running, suddenly feeling unable to breathe. How would he ever find Bård if they’d moved him?

 

_Vegard, I’m serious. If we get separated, we’ll both be worried about each other. You have to promise me that you’ll keep trying, too._

 

He couldn’t let his fears take over.

 

_I’m not helpless without you._

 

His brother was resourceful.

 

_I will be there when you get out._

 

And his brother was stubborn. Bård had said he’d meet him when they got out and he had to believe that would happen. Vegard stood up and began to run.

 

A dog barked and when he turned his head toward the sound he could make out a dark figure running towards him. Vegard looked around. He still didn’t see any vehicles, so he hoped that the approaching dog was just a random happening and not related to a man hunt. As the dog neared it’s bark sounded friendly and once it had caught up to him, it seemed happy just to run along beside him.

 

They ran together, side by side, for a few minutes before Vegard came to a stop and crouched down to listen - he’d completely forgotten to listen the last time he stopped. The dog seemed to want him to run and started to bark again.

 

“Shhh… Stop!”

 

The dog’s bark was a playful, short bark with four or five seconds in between and Vegard found that he was able to listen pretty well for vehicles and/or people during the quiet spaces. But the longer the dog barked, the more Vegard became aware that it could signal his presence to anyone nearby.

 

Somewhat frustrated, Vegard jumped back up and started running. The dog immediately stopped barking and began running with him again. That solved the immediate problem, but he needed to get rid of his new best friend.

 

“Ok. Nice meeting you. Now go away.”

 

That did nothing. In fact the dog looked like it was having a great time and had no plans to stop any time soon.

 

“Shoo. Go home!” Vegard tried to sound like he was in charge, but was hindered by the fact that he was still running and somewhat out of breath.

 

The dog appeared to be smiling and Vegard started to wonder if it was laughing at him.

 

He would have welcomed the company, if it weren’t for the barking, but he knew that once he stopped to listen again the barking would resume. Vegard stopped abruptly and turned to face his furry companion.

 

“Go home!”

 

The dog looked puzzled. Vegard tried to make himself look as big as possible. He took a deep breath and tried once more.

 

“ _Go! Home!!_ ”

 

Vegard pointed in a random direction and the dog ran off. It was almost as if that was what the dog had wanted the whole time, directions back to his house. Vegard kind of hoped, for the dog’s sake, that he had pointed him in the right direction. He walked slowly, backwards, keeping an eye on the retreating dog until he was satisfied that it wasn’t going to turn around and come back.

 

That was when he heard them. At least a couple vehicles were roaring in the distance, and from the sound of it they were moving fairly quickly and getting closer. He still couldn’t see them and wondered if his imagination was getting the better of him. It didn’t matter too much. The landscape between him and Enugu was pretty barren with only scrubby bushes and lots of dry dirt. There was nothing that he could hide behind or under, the only option he had was to run.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently I have felt the urge to write something in recognition of the many wonderful authors in this fandom. So instead of letting that urge pass (as I sometimes do when out of the blue I feel the urge to email or call someone that I haven’t contacted for a while) I have decided to act on it. 
> 
> I am constantly impressed by the quality of work by the authors in this fandom, which entertains me as well as inspires me. And I am also appreciative of how generous they, and so many readers, are with their support - kudos, comments, advice and suggestions. I am always surprised by how much I need that feedback, and just how quickly I forget the encouragement I received just the chapter before and assume that this time what I've written is crap. But I think that's not totally unique to me. 
> 
> I feel fortunate to have decided to try my hand at writing after I found this Fandom. I cannot overemphasize what your support means to me. Thanks!
> 
> Now, I should probably go call my friend in Chicago...


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a looong chapter. I hope it's not too much. I just felt like it should all be together. It does have a natural break, just about in the middle, so you could read it like two chapters. But who am I to tell you how to read it? :) I'm just happy that you are reading it (which I am assuming is true, because if you're reading this long, rambling note, you're probably here to read something better.) I'll shut up now.

There was no reason to stop and listen anymore. Now he was just running.

 

After thinking he’d heard approaching vehicles, he ran for a minute and then paused to check again, holding his breath, hoping with everything in him that he had just imagined the sound. But there was no denying that what he’d heard was real. He could hear multiple vehicles, their engines roaring, and they were definitely getting closer. That was about two minutes ago. He glanced over his shoulder - still no visual evidence of the search party that he knew was coming.

 

He couldn't decide if he should leave the road. If he got as far away from the road as possible they might not see him, but he was holding out hope that someone might come along from the opposite direction and rescue him. Maybe they could take him to their home and hide him or just drive like crazy to Enugu and straight to the police. If he ran away from the road that wouldn't happen. And he wasn't sure if he could run far enough away from the road that he wouldn’t be seen.

 

He looked over his shoulder again. Now he could see it, the glow of the headlights which was bouncing and jumping with every bump and rut that the vehicles hit. They were still on the other side of the small rise that he had just run down, but the evidence of their presence was growing brighter in the night sky, just as the sound was getting louder. Vegard wasted no more time. He turned to his right and ran away from the road. He was beginning to hear the sound of the vehicles over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. All of the fatigue that had been weighing on him was replaced by an adrenaline rush that helped him to run faster than he had in recent memory.

 

Over the last half hour, he had decided that when the vehicles neared he should hit the ground. If he were flat on his stomach he thought he would be less noticeable than if he were running. He anticipated that there would be multiple guards in each vehicle, capable of casting their collective gazes practically in all directions at once.

 

However, now as the time neared, he wasn’t so sure. If he kept running he might get out of the range of their guns and far enough from the lights to get lost in the shadows. And if they did try to follow him in their vehicles, this terrain made the dirt road look like the brand new runway at Gardermoen. It seemed likely that a vehicle would get stuck in a rut or pop a tire if it went off-road here. He continued to run as he looked over his shoulder again. He saw the first headlights come flying into view just before he tripped over something and went sprawling to the ground.

 

He lay motionless for a couple of moments. The fall had knocked most of the air out of him and he struggled to fill his lungs. Now that he was on the ground, he wondered if jumping to his feet wouldn’t be the most attention grabbing move he could make. Looking around himself, he realized that the ground wasn’t as barren as he had thought, there were clumps of grass and a few scraggly plants here and there, along with the occasional large rock or medium sized bush. It wasn’t much. They wouldn't provide a lot of cover, but they might make the bump in the dirt (which he hoped his body would appear to be) stick out less in the landscape. Laying still, seemed to be his best choice for the moment. The vehicles were getting nearer and he kept a worried eye on their progress. Now he could see that there were two vehicles and both vehicles had multiple lights in addition to the headlights. It appeared that each gunman was holding a small spotlight.

 

Vegard had hoped… well, actually, he had assumed… that the only lights he needed to be concerned about were the headlights. Now he felt completely exposed. He lay as still as possible, hoping they would just keep going.

 

The first vehicle was almost to the spot where he had diverged from the road. Spotlights were shining all around. If they had been pointed at the sky it would have looked like a Hollywood movie premier. A beam of light flashed across him. He closed his eyes, not wanting them to reflect the light back. The lead vehicle kept moving at the same pace. A couple more spot lights swept the landscape in his general area, but it appeared that he had gone unseen.

 

He had a few seconds before the next vehicle would be close enough to see him, it was just long enough to think about how narrowly he’d missed detection. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Somehow, “stay strong” popped into his mind.

 

The second vehicle was approaching. It seemed to be moving a little slower than the one that had just passed. Somebody was shining a light from the front passenger seat of the vehicle, sweeping the light first to the right side of the road, and then to the left. A beam shone in his direction, and swept over his feet and lower legs.The thought crossed his mind that he would have been less visible if he had taken his black pants off when he escaped. His skin would have blended in with the dirt much better than his pants did.  Then he pictured himself running pantsless during his escape attempt and almost laughed out loud. Calle would fall out of his chair when he heard that one. If he ever heard that one.

 

The second vehicle was now directly across from him. The spotlights were sweeping across the landscape in every direction. He closed his eyes again, so as not to give himself away. It provided the added benefit of making it impossible to watch and agonise over each and every sweep of the search lights.

 

After what felt like minutes, but could only have been a few seconds, the second vehicle had finally passed by and most of the guards’ spotlights were pointing further up the road. He let out his breath. A number of the spotlights had briefly exposed him, but he had gone unnoticed. He was almost through this. Before the vehicle was out of range, one more spotlight swept across him.

 

At that moment the second vehicle came to a stop. Right away Vegard knew. They had to have seen him. Still... he couldn't help hoping.... maybe they had seen something else,  maybe they had mistaken something else for him and it would be alright. He really wanted to believe that, so he waited. The vehicle started backing up at a pretty quick pace. He felt the urge to run but again thought: what if they hadn’t actually seen him yet? They’d certainly see him if he moved.

 

As the vehicle approached, lights started to sweep in Vegard’s direction. He wasn’t sure what to do. His indecision seemed to paralyze him. He stayed still, like a rabbit who thinks if he doesn’t move, you can’t see him. But then a guard’s spotlight found him and remained trained on his location.

 

Springing to his feet, Vegard began to run. He heard some shouting and a few warning shots. Checking back over his shoulder, it appeared that he had been correct about one thing, the driver of the vehicle wasn’t going to go off-road, at least not in the dark. There were five or six gunmen chasing after him on foot, but he had quite a lead on his pursuers, and he had been laying still for long enough that he’d caught his breath. He felt like he had a chance. He could run for a while if he needed to.

 

A second backward glance made him realize that two or three of the gunmen were gaining on him. How was he supposed to outrun a bunch of teenagers? He heard a rifle shot and then another one, the second of which hit the ground near him. They weren’t shooting warning shots anymore.

 

“Halt! You can't get away."

 

Vegard knew that voice.

 

“Stop right now!”

 

Dayo was one of the men that was catching up to him. He wondered if Dayo would actually shoot him. Maybe not, but there were two other guards running beside Dayo and he had no relationship with them.

 

He ran a little further hearing nothing but his own heavy breathing.

 

“Stop or we'll shoot."

 

Vegard kept running. The three men who were still pursuing him were younger than he was, but they were also carrying heavy rifles. He knew from experience that running with that kind of heavy equipment tires you out quickly. If he could just keep going for another five minutes, they might give up.

 

"Stop!"

 

Another shot was fired in his direction. He couldn't tell if it had landed anywhere near him. He had to think that the odds were in his favor. It would be difficult for them to aim accurately while they were running. And if they stopped to take aim, their hands would be shaking from adrenaline and their elevated heart rates. So, he kept running.

 

"Stop!"

 

He could hear the guards puffing behind him. They weren’t gaining on him anymore. They had to be about as out of breath as he was.  That probably explained why they were shouting at him less and less.

 

"Stop now...

 

 or we’ll ...

 

 kill your brother!!”

 

 The words came out in short bursts between Dayo’s gasping breaths.

 

 Vegard looked back over his shoulder.

 

 “I mean it!....

 

 Stop now...  

 

 or your brother is....  

 

 dead!”

 

 The look on Dayo’s face was deadly serious.

 

Vegard slowed to a stop. Leaning over, he put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. The guards promptly caught up to him. The first guard to reach him pulled out a plastic zip tie and bound his hands behind his back. The plastic was hard and felt like it was cutting into his wrists.

 

“You have caused us a lot of trouble.” Dayo grabbed his arm roughly and started moving, half guiding and half dragging him back to the vehicle.

 

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out without much thought. Obviously, he was only “sorry” he had been caught, but he thought it was probably best to sound contrite.

 

Dayo pulled him a little harder, putting more space between them and the other two guards who were following them back to the vehicle. Dayo spoke under his breath to Vegard as they walked quickly, increasing their lead. “There will be consequences for this. I can’t help you. Whatever you do, _don’t_ defy Big Bosi.”

 

“You won’t hurt my brother now though, right? You’ll leave him out of this.”

 

“I don’t know. We’ll see.”

 

They reached the vehicle and two gunmen threw him into the back of the vehicle where there were no seats. His hands were behind his back, so he was unable to break his fall. His right cheekbone hit the hard metal floor unimpeded, causing him to see stars for a couple of minutes. As his vision returned he could see that he was not alone in the back of the vehicle, two of the gunmen were there with him, their rifles in their hands.

 

His face hit the floor a couple more times as they bounced along on the uneven roads, until he managed to roll himself over onto his back. Laying on his arms was uncomfortable so, as soon as he could manage from that awkward position, he sat up and then scooted back to lean against the truck and stabilize himself. The gunmen watched him and appeared amused as he struggled. Dayo was apparently inside the vehicle, not that Vegard thought that Dayo would have treated him any differently.

 

When they arrived back at the compound the full weight of his situation hit him. They were planning on killing him when the money came through and he had failed to get away.  He'd failed himself and his brother.

 

The vehicle came to a stop and one of the guards grabbed Vegard and yanked him to his feet. He was pushed to the back edge of the platform and forced to jump down.  Immediately, his arm was grabbed and twisted up at an odd angle, which was particularly painful since his hands were still tied together behind his back.

 

He was brought back to his room and thrown to the floor. He lay on the cool tile wondering what was next.

 

He was surprised to see the guard who had picked up his food tray, the one who was probably being blamed for his escape. He should have left for the day. He came in with two other guards who quickly took him by both arms and jerked him back up to his feet. He remembered the guard who took his tray, because of his youthful attempt at a mustache. He had nicknamed some of the guards, for his own amusement, and this was the one he called Aksel. Aksel was yelling at him, practically screaming really, and then he started punching.

 

Vegard tried to keep quiet. He didn't want to reward his tormentor in any way. After a full minute of abuse, Vegard’s body was screaming. He let out a loud groan.

 

He looked over at the guards who were holding him upright. They were the ones he'd nicknamed “Gunnar” and “Gyrd”. He had pegged Gyrd as being someone who would willingly participate in this kind of abuse, but he was a little disappointed in Gunnar. After another minute his knees gave way. “Fuck!” He bent over in pain. The only reason that he wasn't lying crumpled on the ground was that the guards were still holding him under the arms.

 

He felt two hands push down on his shoulders just before Aksel gave him a knee to the face.

 

And then it seemed like it was over. The punches stopped and the guards holding his arms seemed to be letting him catch his breath.

 

He was in a lot of pain. So much that it just seemed to radiate from every part of his body. He heard someone wheezing. Then he realized that he was the one whose breathing was so ragged.

 

Suddenly he was pulled upright again. Now he could see that Aksel was far from done. The guard had only stepped out to get a broom handle. His first swing struck Vegard in the ribs. He couldn’t help but cry out in pain.

 

The guard swung again, striking him on the side of his knee. He seemed to enjoy taking his time, waiting between strikes so that each one could be fully appreciated. He struck Vegard once more in the ribs. There was no way to hide his pain anymore.

 

Aksel was just winding up for another strike when a loud voice started shouting from just outside the doorway. Big Bosi entered the room and grabbed the broom handle out of Aksel’s hands. Gunnar and Gyrd, who were still holding Vegard under his arms, stood tensely, waiting to see if they were to stay or go, and if they were in trouble or not. Big  Bosi screamed at Aksel for close to five minutes, and then suddenly he swung the broom handle and struck Aksel in the ribs. He struck him again, hard, on the knee and then sent him limping out of the room.

"These boys." Big Bosi smiled and shook his head. "They get overzealous at times. It seems that they forget that we are still hoping to get paid for you." He slapped the broom handle on the palm of his hands a couple of times and then threw it out in the hall.

 

Vegard was trying to catch his breath. He didn't know what to say, but then it didn't appear that Big Bosi wanted him to say anything.

 

"So..... you found a way out of your room." Big Bosi sounded falsely cheerful, which almost seemed more frightening than if he were just angry. "I'm disappointed that you would do that when we have treated you so well. Nice bed. Good food. That's not polite, is it?" Big Bosi looked at him quizzically and then slapped him hard on the face. "You should have better manners than that, but it's never too late to learn."

 

A couple of sarcastic comments almost slipped out of Vegard’s lips. Dayo’s advice “Whatever you do, _don’t_ defy Big Bosi” echoed in his mind and made him hold his tongue. Big Bosi slapped Vegard again, hitting him hard on the side of his head and causing his eyesight to momentarily blur, then Big Bosi said something to the guards and they let go of his arms.  Unprepared, and a little unsteady, Vegard fell to his knees. As his vision cleared he could feel someone pulling at his wrists and then he realized that his hands had been freed.

 

"I suppose I should punish you a little more for your actions, to make sure that you don't think about a repeat performance. But I am a reasonable man. I think you've gotten the point, haven't you? "

 

Vegard thought it was probably a rhetorical question… _don’t defy Big Bosi_...but nodded none the less, hoping it would spare him from more punishment.

 

"Yes, I think so too. Although there is one more consequence for your ill-advised actions, your brother will be punished as well."

 

"No." Vegard’s voice came out as a little more than a whisper.

 

Big Bosi raised an eyebrow, "Yes,  I'm afraid so.” He cocked his head and a self-satisfied smile spread across his face.  “His day will be a little less bright tomorrow. "

 

“No. Whatever it is, do it to me. I'm the one who ran, not him.”

 

“Perhaps you should have thought about his safety before you tried to get away.”  

 

“Please. Don't hurt him. It's not his fault.”  

 

“Mr. Ylvisåker, you are in no position to ask for favors. Next time just remember: whatever you do, affects him.” Big Bosi nodded at Gunnar and Gyrd, indicating that they could leave. They wasted no time and scurried out of the room.

 

“What are you going to do to him?” ... _don’t defy Big Bosi_...Vegard managed to leave off “you asshole” from his question.

 

“I'll leave that to your imagination.” With that Big Bosi exited the room and closed the door.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dayo took a deep breath and sighed. Sometimes he wondered how he’d gotten involved in this. He was more educated than most of the young guards he worked with and his father had had much higher hopes for him. But then his father died in a car accident. Dayo remembered that day vividly. It was the worst day of his life.

 

A few months later when life began to get somewhat back to normal, his mother, Bisola, came to him and told him that they were going through their savings very rapidly and he needed to get a job. She knew that would be a sacrifice for Dayo, but she didn’t earn enough money to support Dayo and his brother. Bisola had a friend, Maris, whose husband ran some kind of large operation. Maris told her that Dayo should go talk to her husband if he wanted a job. That was how he met Big Bosi, that was how this all began.

 

He was shocked when he came to understand exactly what Big Bosi’s “business” entailed. He hadn’t been raised to be a criminal. He knew right from wrong. After three weeks he went to his mother and said that he wanted to get a different job. He was embarrassed to tell her what it was that he had been doing, although he got the feeling that she already knew or at least knew that it was something less than legitimate.

 

Bisola was very understanding. She wouldn’t force him to work there. But Big Bosi paid much more than most jobs that Dayo was qualified for in Enugu. He was only sixteen years old. She told him that if he got a different job, his little brother would probably have to get a job as well.

 

Dayo had seen that too many times. Over the last few years, a number of his friends had started working to help their families. Usually it was just a part-time job so that they could continue going to school. It never worked out that way though. Eventually, each of them had missed too many classes, and fallen behind on too many assignments, to keep up with the rest of the class. Each one of them dropped out of school less than a year after they had started working. He didn’t want that for his little brother. Gabriel was only twelve years old.

 

Dayo decided to put aside his ethical concerns and just do the job, for his family. Even though he knew his father would never have approved of him working there, he felt certain that his father would be proud of him for taking care of their family. So, he just kept his head down and did the job, and tried not to think too much about it when he got home.   

 

The longer he worked for Big Bosi, the less Dayo was bothered by his job. It wasn’t as if he were taking money from his elderly neighbor lady or some small child. The people that they kidnapped had so much money. Big Bosi liked to say that he was just like Robin Hood, taking from the rich to give to the poor. These people had more than they needed, more than their share. And besides, once the ransom was paid, the hostages were released. It was really more of a business transaction than anything violently criminal.

 

As time passed, and he became more and more deeply involved with the organization, he came to find out that some hostages did get hurt. But, as Big Bosi explained to him, it was usually their own fault or that of whoever was supposed to be paying their ransom.

 

The first time he was asked to participate in the "punishment" of a hostage was after he had been working for the organization for more than a year. He was told to cut someone’s finger off, because whoever Big Bosi was negotiating with wasn’t cooperating. Dayo really hadn’t thought it would be so bad. It was just one finger - the pinky finger on the man’s non-dominant hand. The hostage would be alright. He’d be able to live a normal life. As soon as he saw the fear in the man’s eyes, the absolute terror, he started to rethink his assumptions. Of course, at that point he really didn’t have much choice. One of the guards had started filming and another one was reading the script. The man was sobbing and begging Dayo not to do it. His own conscience was joining in, telling him that it was wrong. When the time came, he chopped off the finger as quickly as possible thinking that it would be better, for both of them, not to drag it out. The scream that the hostage let out as his finger was severed from his hand still haunted Dayo almost three years later. Yet, somehow he was able to let go of his subsequent victim’s cries much more easily.

 

After another year or so, he discovered that sometimes the hostages were killed. He didn’t really know why or how, he just heard rumors about it often enough that he knew there was some truth to it. But _he_  had never killed anyone. _His_ hands were clean. So even though it did bother him that he was associated with people who would do such things, he was able to put the deaths that had occurred out of his thoughts. It wasn’t like he’d pulled the trigger. He wasn’t that kind of person.

 

So that was how he dealt with it for more than three years, with some guilt and a lot denial, and the rationalization that he was doing it for his mother and brother.

 

But then, nine months ago, everything changed. That’s when Dayo’s mother died. It seemed like one day she had a cough and the next day the doctor said she had cancer and that it was too late for treatment. Less than three weeks after her first doctor visit she was gone. That left Dayo alone to take care of his fifteen-year-old brother. By then Dayo was nineteen years old, and experienced enough to take on a bigger role in Big Bosi’s organization, so he asked for what amounted to a promotion and a raise. More than anything he wanted Gabriel to be able to continue on in school and get a good job.

 

Three days after his promotion, Big Bosi came to him with an assignment. One of the hostages had escaped the night before and when he was recaptured he still didn’t seem to know who was in charge. He was defiant. His will remained unbroken. It wouldn’t do. He had been taken hostage along with two other people and the three of them had been kept in close proximity. When Big Bosi went to see him, to impress upon him that it could never happen again, the hostage spit in his face in front of the other two hostages. Big Bosi could not allow someone to get away with such defiance. So, Dayo was told to kill him. He supposed it was a test. Big Bosi wanted to know if he could rely on Dayo, if he was trustworthy and loyal. In a way, that was what Dayo focused on when he pulled the trigger. He wanted Gabriel to be able to rely on him and to trust him. He wanted his brother to know that he would always be loyal to him, above all else.

 

That was the first time, but not the only time he was asked to do something like that. He found that he pretty quickly became numb to those assignments, just as he had become numb to punishing the hostages and just as he had become numb to taking people hostage in the first place. He was able to somehow compartmentalize whatever he did for Big Bosi and leave it all behind when he went home.

 

That seemed to work pretty well for him until the day they captured the norwegians. It seemed like everything went wrong that could have gone wrong that day. They had never killed anyone during the hostage taking before. But Abalunam was sort of a loose canon. Dayo had tried to warn Big Bosi of that, but Big Bosi wasn’t one to take advice, and certainly not that of a newly turned twenty year old. The fact that a bodyguard was accompanying the norwegians had been a surprise, however he wasn’t armed and hadn’t tried anything physically, Dayo was sure of that because he had only been a few feet away when that first shooting occurred. Abalunam really had no excuse for killing that man.

 

Shooting the bodyguard caused one of the hostages to run. That was certainly Abalunam’s fault as well. They could have caught the hostage, he didn’t appear to be very fast, or they could have let him go, the ransom for five people usually wasn’t much different from that for four. But Abalunam just had to shoot him. It made no sense. Now they definitely only had four hostages, because why would they bring a heavily bleeding man back to the compound?

 

And then Abalunam went completely off the deep end. He started shouting about teaching them a lesson and that he couldn’t let them think they could run off. He ordered a couple of the younger gunmen to drag a person away from each group. Dayo and some of the others tried to stop it. They reminded Abalunam that they had worked with the movie crew before, they were on the same side. And they needed the hostages, he shouldn’t hurt any of them. But he wouldn’t listen. It was crazy.

 

Somehow, that one day put a tiny hole in the wall that kept him emotionally detached from his job. When Dayo went home that evening he gave his brother a big hug. He wanted to remind himself of why he was doing this job. Gabriel had laughed and pushed him away, not really sure where that had come from. But then Gabriel threw himself at Dayo and started wrestling with him. After twenty minutes they were both lying on the floor, giggling and exhausted.

 

Two days later, he found out that two of the norwegian hostages were brothers. It was the first time he had looked at the hostages as being somebody’s family member. That put another hole in the wall he had built between his life and his conscience. When he saw the blond one hug the dark haired one and say “I love you”, he saw a look on the blond’s face that he recognized. He’d seen Gabriel look at him with that expression before. When that man, who he came to know as Bård, confirmed that he and the dark haired man were brothers, Dayo couldn’t go through with it. He didn’t think he should separate them. So he brought Bård back and put him in the room with Vegard.

 

That only lasted a few days. Eventually Big Bosi found out about what he had done. Vegard was moved and Dayo was reprimanded. He was told that it was important that the brothers be kept apart and that he shouldn’t try to make those decisions on his own. Then he was told to go back to work. No corporal punishment. No docking of his pay. Dayo was surprised that he had gotten off the hook that easy, but he knew that Big Bosi liked him and that Big Bosi’s wife, Maris, was still looking out for him and his brother. He did, however, understand that he could never do that again.

 

On the night of Vegard’s attempted escape, Dayo should have already been home. He had stayed late to finish up a small assignment for Big Bosi and was almost done when he heard the alarm go off which alerted everyone that a prisoner was missing. He considered staying in the small supply room and completing his task, but he knew he was still on probation for not moving Bård a few weeks ago, so he grabbed his gun and hurried to jump onto one of the vehicles.

 

After helping to recapture Vegard, Dayo hung around for awhile, hoping that Big Bosi wasn't going to kill him. But Big Bosi didn't kill Vegard, he rarely took an active role in those things. From what Dayo could see, Vegard had been badly beaten, but was still alive. He hoped that Vegard had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

 

Big Bosi stopped Dayo when he was about to go home and gave him his assignment for the next morning. Knowing how angry Big Bosi was with Vegard, he had been afraid of what he might be asked to do to Bård, so when Big Bosi told him to tell Bård that his brother was dead, Dayo was a little relieved. He had thought it was going to be much worse.

 

He walked home in a pretty good mood. It was Friday, which meant he’d just been paid, and he felt good that Big Bosi was relying on him and seemed to trust him again. He had to walk three kilometers to the small house that he and his brother shared. As he neared, he realized that he was starving and thought that Gabriel had to be hungry too. He always felt bad when he got home so late, and found Gabriel home alone and waiting for his dinner. But this time when he entered, he could smell a wonderful aroma. His brother had made dinner. Gabriel was his little brother, so Dayo tended to forget that he was about to turn sixteen and was becoming much more capable of helping out.

 

As they ate, Gabriel asked him about his day. Dayo never talked to Gabriel about the darker parts of his job, but his brother knew that it involved kidnappings. He had found out about that some time ago, when he accidentally overheard a conversation between Dayo and their mother.

 

After a few general questions, Gabriel told Dayo that he worried about him. He didn’t feel like Dayo’s job was safe and he wanted Dayo to get a different job. Gabriel said he could get a job too. They could get by on two incomes. It was obvious that Gabriel had been thinking about this for a while because the words came spilling out.

 

“Gabriel. I’m doing this for you. So you can go to school and be whatever you want to be.”

 

Gabriel got tears in his eyes. “I don’t care about that. I don’t want you to get killed. I want you here. Please. You need to get out of there.”

 

“I'm not going to be killed. I’m careful. I don’t take chances.”

 

“Please. I don’t know what I’d do if you died.”

 

Dayo managed to calm Gabriel down with the promise that he would think about it.

 

That night, Dayo lay awake for a long time, thinking about their conversation. Previously, when Dayo had thought about what would happen to Gabriel if something happened to him, his worries had always been about finances. He had never thought about how devastated Gabriel would be if he wasn’t there anymore. Now that was all he could think about. This evening, he had seen a glimpse of the pain that Gabriel would be in if something happened to him. It was heartbreaking.

 

The next morning when Dayo was about to go into Bård’s room, the conversation with his brother came back to him. Suddenly, the magnitude of what he was about to say to Bård felt overwhelming. He knew that Vegard wasn’t really dead, but he had no idea how long it would be before Bård would know the truth. If he did what Big Bosi had ordered, Bård would think his brother was dead. Judging by the relationship he had seen between them, the news would be devastating.

 

Reluctantly, he entered the room. He had thought that Bård might ask him about Vegard, as he had so many times before, but it appeared that Bård had become sufficiently discouraged that he wasn’t going to ask today. Bård took the bowl from his tray and started to walk back towards the wall. Dayo kept hearing his brother’s voice... _I don’t know what I would do if you died._ He wondered what was wrong with himself that he would even consider doing this to another person.

 

But he needed to go through with it.

 

“I asked Big Bosi about your brother.”

 

“Yes. What did he say?” Bård turned around quickly. He sounded so excited, so hopeful for some good news. It caused Dayo to rethink his decision. He stalled a bit, debating again if he could really go through with it.

 

“Big Bosi didn’t want to tell me at first.”

 

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell you?”

 

He really didn’t want to do this. It was cruel.   _I don’t know what I would do if you died._ He looked away from Bård and thought about Gabriel. This was his job. It was his responsibility.

 

“He did. Eventually he did.”

 

“And…?”

 

“Your brother tried to escape.” He stared at his feet. “He’s dead.” He didn’t want to see the pain in Bård’s eyes.

 

There was a terrible silence in the room. It felt suffocating. Eventually, he heard the reply. “No. No that’s not right.”

 

“It happened a few weeks ago.” Dayo kept his gaze down. He wasn’t sure why he had added that to the lie, except that it made him feel a little more distanced from the whole thing.

 

“No. That’s not true.”

 

A few moments later he looked up and saw Bård drop his bowl, the food splattering everywhere. He really couldn’t watch anymore. He left Bård and went outside. He ran behind the buildings and threw up. He was shaking and he felt tears coming to his eyes.

 

It seemed odd that telling a lie about someone dying made him feel worse than actually killing somebody. But he couldn’t help seeing his little brother’s face in Bård’s and in that moment he wondered if it was all worth it. Would his brother eventually appreciate all the sacrifices he’d made for him? Or would Gabriel end up hating him for all the terrible things he’d done?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind feedback. I appreciate it so much!


	15. Chapter 15

It had been nine days since Dayo told him that Vegard was dead. Since then Bård had spent more and more of his time sleeping. Sometimes he didn’t even notice when his food was brought into his cell. When he was awake, he felt like there was an elephant sitting on his chest. It was as if all of his sadness and his fears, and all of his anger and doubt was pushing down on him, crushing him.

 

_You have to promise me…  you have to keep going… even if you haven’t seen me for a while…_

 

He had repeated Vegard’s words to himself since the day they were separated. The words had been so comforting to him at first, reminding him that eventually they would be released, they would both be released. Their lives would go back to normal and everything would be okay. But since Dayo had told him…. about Vegard, he’d had a much harder time believing it was going to be okay. Was he keeping a promise to someone who wasn’t going to be there? Did he want to go back to his life, if his life would never really go back to normal? Then, he would try to remind himself that he didn’t really know anything for sure. Dayo was not his friend. Dayo was not to be trusted.

 

It was exhausting, because each time he woke up he had to convince himself to keep holding on. Each time his food was brought in, he had to talk himself into eating.  Nevertheless, over the last few days, he had succeeded in making himself retrieve each food bowl.

 

When he ate, he always started with the goal of eating all his food. It shouldn’t have been that difficult, he didn’t even notice what he was eating anymore. But he had a hard time forcing himself to finish it. He had no appetite anymore. At the end of each meal, he was lucky if he had managed to empty half of the bowl.

 

He heard the key in the lock and a guard entered his room, setting the food tray on the floor. Bård didn't move until the guard quietly left. Slowly he sat up. He just sat there for a minute, hugging his knees. Thoughts floated through his head, almost as if someone else were whispering in his ear.

 

_It’s hopeless…. there is no point in eating now….. he’s not going to be there…._

Hoping to drown out those thoughts he spoke out loud. “No. It’s not hopeless. He’s still alive.” He took a ragged breath and tried to keep himself together. “He promised me that he’d be there when I got out. He promised me.” He desperately wanted to drown out the negative thoughts for good, but the best he could ever do was to quiet them for a while.

 

_You can’t give up… you have to keep eating… promise me..._

 

“I’m trying, Vegard. I’m trying.” With a deep breath he stood up to retrieve his food. He momentarily forgot about his foot and a sharp pain shot up his leg. A stifled groan slipped out as he put his hand on the wall to catch himself. He stood there for a few seconds, balanced on his good foot, trying to breathe through the pain. When the pain had faded, he limped over to the tray and picked up his breakfast.

 

By the time he’d hobbled back to the wall, his foot was throbbing again. Leaning back against the cool grey surface he took a deep breath and then slid down to the floor. This was where he and Vegard had eaten all of their meals together. And this was where he had continued to eat them after Vegard was taken away.

 

He thought about that day all the time. It seemed so long ago. Should he have tried to stop it? Maybe he should have taken a run at the guard before he took Vegard. Maybe they could have overpowered him. But then he remembered that the guard had been pointing his weapon right at Vegard. Bård never would have taken that chance.

 

He looked at his bowl and wondered how he was going to eat it all. There was a lump in his stomach that seemed to have grown larger week by week. There was nothing he could do to make that feeling of dread disappear.  After eating what little he could, Bård pushed the bowl away and stretched out on the floor again.

 

He wouldn’t have thought it was possible that he could feel more depressed today than he had yesterday, but he did. He brought his hands up to rub his face. Unexpectedly, the motion brought tears to his eyes. A sob rose from his chest and he began to cry. He rolled over towards the wall and curled up in a ball. There had to be an end to this. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

 

* * *

 

The escape attempt was such a mistake. It had been ten days since he’d tried to run, ten long days... much of which he had spent worrying about his brother. What had they done to him? He hadn’t seen Dayo since then, and none of the other guards spoke english, so all he could do was worry.

 

The morning after the attempt, he woke up on the floor, in pain and totally disoriented. Somehow he managed to get himself up and onto the bed and then barely moved a muscle for the rest of the day. He couldn't eat. He felt sick and the pain that would have been involved in retrieving his food didn’t seem worth it. 

 

The pain was always the worst in the morning. The most surprising thing about the pain was that sometimes it could hurt just to breathe. He was fairly certain that he had a couple of broken ribs. He had a difficult time sitting up due to the pain, so he usually ended up sort of rolling out of the bed.

 

He didn’t need to worry about exercising anymore, he couldn’t even lift his arms as high as his shoulders without having sharp pain in his ribs. Besides, his knee was really messed up. The swelling had gone down somewhat, but he still couldn’t put any weight on it. Staying in shape, in case an opportunity to escape should arise, no longer applied. He wouldn’t be able to escape now if they left the door wide open and gave him a two-hour head start.

 

He was so limited physically, that he really couldn’t do much other than lay on his bed and think about his situation. Most of the time, those thoughts were focused on one thing... he should have stopped them. He should have tried to do something as soon as the gun jammed and Bård had been released. He should have done _something_ : grabbed a gun, created a diversion, somehow called for help. But then he would realize that he couldn’t have done any of that. Even if there had been a move he could have made, he was so stunned after almost witnessing his brother’s death that there was no way he would have let go of his little brother any earlier than he had. Honestly, even then, he hadn’t been ready to let him go.  

 

No. There was no way they could have escaped during the abduction. In fact, considering just how many gunmen were around, it probably would have been pretty foolhardy to try. His thoughts shifted to the time that they spent together in the basement cell. Was there something that he could have done then? But it didn’t matter how many times he went over it, he still couldn’t find the opportunity that he had missed. A rational person might have thought that was because there wasn't one, but he was no longer particularly rational about this situation. 

 

Every time he thought about it he felt worse. It was his job to protect his little brother. He knew that most people would think that sounded stupid and absurd. He knew that Bård was an adult, and a smart, capable adult at that. But… it was his job. That was just the way things would always be.

 

He shook his head and tried to think about what he could do now. Was there any way to get help or to get a message to Bård?

 

Dayo.

 

As much as he hated to admit it, his best chance was through Dayo. It wasn’t that he trusted Dayo, afterall he was one of the guards who had foiled his escape. If Dayo had been on his side, he wouldn’t have threatened to kill Bård in order to make Vegard stop running. That move was basically like going for the jugular. On the other hand, Dayo had warned him not to cross Big Bosi, and judging from the way the boss attacked “Aksel” that evening, he was not a man to forgive mistakes without punishment. What would the penalty have been for out-and-out defiance?

 

He knew he couldn’t trust Dayo, but still Dayo did seem to have some small desire to help him. More than that, Dayo was his link to Bård, his only possible link.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_The Norwegian Embassy in Abuja, Nigeria_

 

Between the clean, modern lines of the furniture and the mostly white on white color scheme of the embassy, Calle almost felt like he was back in Oslo. It was comforting. The blonde woman behind the desk had sparkling blue eyes. “Mr. Larsen. Mr. Amundsen. I see you on the schedule. Counselor Rasmussen will be with you shortly.” She didn’t seem to recognize him. Normally that would have been fine with Calle, great even, but if whatever celebrity status he held could get him special favors, now was the time he wanted to use it.

 

“Thank you.” He felt a gentle tug and then a not-so-gentle tug on his arm, pulling him away from the desk.

 

“Calle why don’t you come and sit with me?”  

 

Calle heard the words, but they didn’t really register. He was worried about this meeting. They needed some good news.

 

“Calle?”

 

This was the third time they’d flown from Enugu to Abuja to seek help from the Norwegian embassy. He was hoping they’d have some answers.

  
“Calle, sit!”

 

Mikael grabbed Calle’s arm again and pulled him down, onto the off-white leather sofa.

 

Calle looked around, suddenly aware of his surroundings. “Why’d you do that?”

 

“I just wanted you to relax for a minute. Take a few deep breaths.”

 

“Our appointment was scheduled for 10 am.” Calle looked nervously from the clock on his phone, to the woman at the desk, to Mikael and back to his phone.  “Why can’t he be ready on time?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“This is important. Is he even taking this seriously?” Sometimes Calle wondered if anyone else was concerned about his friends.

 

“Calle… he’s on our side. Try to remember that.” Mikael was talking to him very calmly and reassuringly, it was comforting and at the same time infuriating.

 

“Yes. I know. I just feel like this is our last chance.” Infuriating, because there was no reason to be calm about this situation anymore. Still, he knew that Mikael would respond with something encouraging and hopeful, some complete work of fiction intended to help him keep going. It was something he’d come to rely on in order to keep his sanity.

 

Instead, all Mikael said was, “I know.”

 

Calle thought he had seen the low point many times over the last few weeks - the kidnapping, the release of only two prisoners after the ransom had been paid, the police detective’s inability to find anyone willing to talk - but now, this was it. Even Mikael was losing hope. _This_ was his new low point.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dayo came in with the first meal of the day. Vegard had managed to sit up on his bed and was leaning against the wall.

 

“Dayo!?” Suddenly his heart was racing. Vegard hadn’t thought he would see Dayo, and now here he was, right in front of him. “Have you seen him?”

 

“Hmmm. I can’t say.” Dayo didn’t seem to want to look at him.

 

“Is he alright? What did they do to him?”

 

Dayo glanced back toward the doorway. “I really can’t say.”

 

Vegard could see another guard waiting just outside the door, his gun unnecessarily at the ready, as if Vegard were going to try to take them both out and make a getaway. He wondered if that guard understood that he could barely sit up to eat.

 

“Please, tell me _something_.”

 

Dayo set the tray down on Vegard’s bed. “You should eat your food.” Dayo turned around and left without saying another word.

 

He wasn’t sure how to interpret Dayo’s lack of response. Most likely he’d been told not to say anything. But, maybe, he just didn’t want to be the one to tell him that Bård was dead.

 

Vegard stared at the closed door. He’d been waiting and hoping to see Dayo again for ten days. And now Dayo had come and gone without telling him anything.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Finally, Calle and Mikael were told they could enter Counselor Rasmussen’s office.

 

“Calle. Mikael. Come in. Make yourselves comfortable.”

 

“Hello, Jan Erik.” Calle tried to smile and shook Jan Erik’s hand. He was sure his smile looked completely phony because he was totally freaking out on the inside.

 

Mikael shook Jan Erik’s hand as well. “Thank you for making time to see us.”

 

Calle was grateful that one of them was still able to maintain the social norms of politeness.

 

Jan Erik was an older man, late forties if Calle had to guess, he was fit for his age and had just the right amount of grey hair to make him look professional and authoritative. “Of course! I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’ve been putting out one fire after another all morning.” He gestured toward two chairs that faced his desk, signaling Calle and Mikael to sit down, as he stepped over to an antique cabinet which held a beverage tray. “It’s good you came in today, actually. I have some news.”

 

“You do?” Calle and Mikael said in unison.

 

“Well, as you know, the Norwegian Intelligence Service has been actively searching for Bård and Vegard, using contacts that they have in Nigeria, studying satellite images, working with the intelligence agencies of our allies.” Jan Erik paused as he handed Calle and Mikael each a glass of water. “It turns out that the brothers are not the only people being held by these kidnappers at the moment. There are four people from the States, two Brits, and three Germans as well. Most of them work in the oil industry.”

 

“Just because Bård and Vegard are not the only ones, doesn’t make them unimportant.”

 

“No, of course not Calle.” Jan Erik sat down on the front edge of his desk, so that there was very little space between him and his two visitors. “The thing is, the organization we suspect of holding the brothers has multiple hostages at multiple sites. They often move the hostages around. They almost always separate the hostages who know each other. We can’t make a move until we’re sure we’ve located everyone, otherwise they’ll bug out with whoever we’ve missed. If that happened it could take months to locate them again… that is... assuming that the kidnappers wouldn’t just kill them.”

 

Calle nodded. He was finding it difficult to think past those last few words.

 

Fortunately, Mikael pushed the conversation forward. “Make a move? Are they considering a rescue attempt?”

 

“Yes. Well, we’d call it a ‘rescue’. The Army Ranger Command is Norway’s most elite special forces unit. They perform these sort of extractions with precision.”

 

“Of course.” A mixture of hope and anxiety washed over Calle.

 

“And since there are other countries involved, we’ll be working with those countries’ special forces units in a coordinated effort.”

 

“Why has it taken so long for the NIS to locate Bård and Vegard?”

 

“The ARC is second to none, but an extraction is still a very risky operation. And as good as our intelligence information is, there is always a possibility of missing something. A negotiated release would always be our first choice. After they released the first two hostages it seemed like they might be willing to do the same with your friends so the NIS waited a little longer hoping for the situation to resolve itself. At this point, we’re not certain what the kidnappers want. They still have very little communication with us, we need to make a move.”

 

“When will the ARC be making a move?” There was genuine hopefulness in Mikael’s voice.

 

“I’m not sure. As soon as they are positive they know where everyone is. I probably won’t be able to notify you ahead of time. Once they're ready, they’ll move quickly.”

 

“But the NIS thinks, I mean they _know_ where they both are?”

 

“Well, like I said, they’re very close to making a move. I wouldn’t tell you this unless they were very, very close. But nothing is for sure until it’s over. Hopefully within the week.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the evening, Dayo returned to pick up the tray from his second meal. Vegard couldn’t see anyone out in the hall. It seemed that they were alone.

 

“Dayo. Please tell me about Bård.”

 

This time Dayo looked at his face. Vegard wasn’t sure, but it looked like he was a little shocked by the bruises that were still quite prominent.

 

“Please tell me if they’ve hurt him.”

 

He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything.”

 

As Dayo bent down to pick up the tray, Vegard reached out and touched him on the arm. “Please Dayo. He’s my little brother. I need to know he’s ok.”

 

Their eyes met and Vegard could see that something he had said was getting through to the young man.

 

Dayo looked back at the doorway and, seeing no one, whispered a response. “I will tell you that he is alive, but that’s it.”

 

“Thank you. Thank you, Dayo.” Dayo had decided not to move Bård weeks ago because the two of them were brothers, Vegard wondered if that was the key. “Do you have a younger brother… or sister?”

 

There was a long pause. Long enough that Vegard was afraid Dayo was going to turn around and leave again. But, finally, he answered. “Yes, I have a little brother.”

 

“Think of your little brother, you wouldn’t want him to be held here, would you?”

 

Dayo looked at Vegard for a few moments before finally shaking his head.

 

“Then you have to understand how I feel about getting my brother to safety.”

 

“Yes. Of course.”

 

“They only need one of us to receive the ransom.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“You could help him. You could help him get out.”

 

After glancing nervously over his shoulder again, Dayo whispered. “It would be very dangerous for me…”

 

His heart leapt. Dayo hadn’t said no. Perhaps he would consider helping Bård, if the situation were safe enough. “But you could figure out how to do it. You’re smart. You could do it.”

 

Dayo shook his head. “I don’t know. I have to go. I’ve been in here too long as it is.” Dayo stood up with the tray and quickly exited the room.

 

It was such a long shot. He wasn’t even sure why he had suggested it, except that Dayo did seem to value family. He tried not to get his hopes up, but it was difficult. Vegard felt like maybe there was some hope.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He was on vacation. Just relaxing by a pool. There was just something about the smell of sunscreen that made him feel relaxed.

 

“Hey, lazy. Get up. You said you’d go to the World War II museum with me.”

 

“Uhhgh! Vegaaaard! Look at the sky. Today is too beautiful to be stuck indoors.”

 

Vegard lifted Bård’s hat off of his face. “Uh…. excuse me…. what did we do yesterday…. and the day before that…. _and_ the day before that?”

 

Vegard must have noticed he was squinting, because soon his brother’s head was blocking the sun. Now he could see Vegard’s eyes and that he was struggling to keep the corners of his mouth from breaking into a grin.

 

This vacation was just what they’d needed. They’d both been so tired and stressed. Vegard looked relaxed now and Bård had to believe that the last three days, by the pool and at the beach, had been a big part of that. But this was Vegard’s vacation too, and he had promised him a day of his choosing.

 

Bård started giggling. “Alright, alright. I guess if you want to force me to do something educational I will.”

 

“Good, I’ll wait over there in the shade while you change, but hurry up.”

 

“Ok.” Bård took one more moment to appreciate the feeling of the sun on his skin, and the sound of kids laughing and splashing in the nearby pool.

 

“Get up!” The words were whispered urgently.

 

“I am.” Bård sat up and looked around for his sunglasses.

 

“Get up! You need to get up now!”

 

“Ok. Hold your horses. I’m just finding my…” He felt Vegard grab his wrist and pull it behind his back. “What?!”

 

“Sit up! Now!!”

 

Suddenly he was awake. He had been pulled up so he was sitting and now he realized that it was Dayo who had grabbed his wrists.

 

“Wait! What are you doing?” Bård managed to wrench his right wrist from out of Dayo’s grasp.

 

“I’m getting you out of here. We have to hurry.” Dayo pulled Bård to his feet, surprising Bård and causing him to put most of his weight on his injured foot. A loud groan escaped his lips. “Shut up! Shut up! You’re going to get us both killed.”

 

“I don’t understand, why are you tying my hands?” While Bård was trying to breathe through the sharp pain radiating up his leg, Dayo had managed to tie his hands together behind his back.

 

“It’s for both our safety. If someone sees us, they’ll think I’m just moving you to another location.”

 

“You’re helping me?”

 

“I’m going to make it look like the evening guard forgot to lock your door. They’ll think you’ve escaped.”

 

Suddenly, Bård was completely awake. His heart was pounding and his breathing was rapid. Was this really happening? After all this time, Dayo was helping him to escape? Bård didn’t quite believe it, but he thought he should just go with it. Dayo opened the door slowly and stuck his head out to look down the hall. Satisfied, he pulled Bård out of the room and pushed him down the hall, making him lead the way. Bård was limping and, judging by the way Dayo kept pushing him, he was not walking fast enough. Climbing the stairs was particularly painful on his injured foot, but it was clear that Dayo was only focused on not being discovered, so he did his best to move quickly. At the top of the stairs Dayo grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.

 

“Alright. Let me look outside first.” Dayo took a quick look and then pushed Bård in front of him. They walked a short distance before Dayo stopped next to a rusted black vehicle. He opened the trunk and nodded his head toward it. “Get in.”

 

Bård realized he probably had very little choice in the matter, but he shook his head. “No, why?”

 

“We don’t have time to discuss it. If we get caught now we’ll both be dead. Now get in. You’re going to have to wait here for a while… everyone will be looking for you in a few minutes. When the search is over, we’ll leave.”

 

Dayo shoved him and he fell, head first into the trunk. He rolled over onto his side and before he realized what was happening, Dayo had tied his legs together to a metal bar on the inside of the trunk.

 

“What? No. Why are you…”

 

“It’s for your own good.”

 

“Please. Please don’t leave me like this.” Bård was already starting to feel claustrophobic.

 

“I’m sorry. I need to make sure you don’t panic and kick your feet...” Dayo reached in and put a gag in Bård’s mouth. “... or scream.”

 

“It would probably be better if you try to remain calm and not use up too much air.” With that, Dayo shut the trunk. Now everything was pitch black.

 

There was no good reason to be breathing so rapidly. A part of Bård’s brain was looking at his situation in a detached way and couldn’t figure out why he would want to breathe like that and use up his air so quickly. Another part was sending out panic signals like fireworks. He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that he wasn’t in the trunk of a car. What would Vegard do? What would Vegard do? He pictured Vegard, telling him how to stop hyperventilating.

 

“Take slow breaths in and out. Count to six on your inhale and on your exhale and try to slowly increase it to a ten count.”

 

He had no idea when he had heard that, but he was sure it was something Vegard had told him once. As he counted his breaths he could feel himself relaxing a bit.

 

That didn’t last for long. Soon he heard multiple vehicles arriving. People getting out and talking anxiously. There was some shouting that sounded like orders. They were definitely there to look for him. He didn’t know what to do. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he began to fear they might hear it as well.

 

He started to feel a little dizzy.

 

Why would Dayo tell everyone he had escaped and risk them finding him?

 

He was hyperventilating again.

 

He heard a few vehicles leave.

 

_….four …..five ….six, and out…. two…. three… four…._

 

He heard people running off in search of him, and listened intently until those footsteps had completely faded away.

 

The slow breathing technique was working.

 

And then it was quiet.

 

The silence continued. Every time he began to relax he’d realize that he was locked in the trunk of a car and the cycle would start again. So, he attempted to distract himself by thinking about the dream he had been having. He didn’t think that was a memory exactly, he didn’t recognize the hotel or have any idea where they were supposed to be. Although most of it could have happened and probably had in one way or another. Every time the darkness of the trunk tried to pull him back to the present he would think about the pool in the dream, the smell of the sunscreen mixed with the chlorine of the pool, and the relaxing warmth of the sun.

 

Oh, the sun! He would _never_ take that for granted again! He might have to move to California just to get enough sun to make up for being in the basement for so long. Although, if he ever made it back to Norway, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever go anywhere again.

 

Eventually, he noticed that it was getting lighter outside. The sun was just barely filtering into the trunk through a few narrow slits in the framework of the car. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give him some idea of what time it was. The guards had to be almost done searching for him.

 

The sun continued rising higher in the sky. It must have risen above the rooftops, because now it looked like morning. Every once in a while he’d hear a few voices or a vehicle pass by, but then it was just silence again. He could imagine the parking lot starting to be filled with the sun’s rays. The small window that looked down on his prison cell was on the west side of the building and would still be in the shade for a while. The car was in that shade as well. As worried as he was about Dayo’s true motives, Bård was anxious for him to come back. He was sore from laying in the same position for so long.

 

Eventually, the sun had risen high enough that the shade of the building was starting to shrink away from the car. Bård noticed the moment that the sun started to shine directly on the car. The light filtering through the cracks became much brighter and it wasn’t long before he could feel the car begin to heat up. Sweat dripped down his face and his shirt became wet. It was becoming harder to breathe. Still no sign of Dayo. It occurred to him that this could be it. It could be the way he would die. It seemed odd. In all these weeks he’d certainly thought about it, how they might kill him, but he’d never considered this as a possibility. He hoped Vegard would know that he really had tried to make it through.

 

The temperature inside the car continued to rise quickly. It had to be well over 100℉. He was past the point of panic. His thoughts were becoming scrambled. He thought he heard voices nearby, but he wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Breathing was almost impossible and he felt himself drifting off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Wake up! Wake up!”

 

The first thing Bård noticed was that the air was cooler. The car was in the shade. Dayo must have pulled him up to sitting because he was sure he hadn’t done that himself. Everything was spinning and he thought he might throw up.

 

“Here. Drink some of this.” Dayo held a water bottle to his lips and gave him a few sips. Bård felt like he could drink and drink and never have his thirst quenched. He groaned a bit when Dayo pulled the bottle away.

 

“Please...More… ” Bård was breathing rapidly.

 

“Yes. I’ll give you more. I don’t want you to get sick. Just drink it slowly.” Dayo held the water bottle up again and Bård tried to drink it slowly enough so that Dayo wouldn’t take it away again. His head was throbbing and his eyesight was blurry. The last few minutes before he passed out came back to him.

 

“Ok. I’m going to untie your arms and legs.” Even untied, Bård wasn’t sure if he could move. Parts of his body had gone numb hours ago as he lay in one position on the floor of the trunk. He wasn’t even sitting up on his own power, Dayo was pressing him firmly on the back to keep him upright. “Are you ready to walk?” Honestly, he felt like he might just melt into the ground if he had to walk right now. Bård shook his head. “Please... water....”

 

Dayo gave him another drink but after just a few swallows, the bottle was taken away. He reached out shakily. “No… please... ”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m out of water. See?”

 

Bård could see an outline of a foggy figure. It was possible that the figure was trying to show him an empty water bottle, but he couldn’t see it.

 

“Who’s this?” A second person had come up to the car.

 

“What are you doing home? Why aren’t you in school?”

 

“You didn’t wake me up this morning. When I woke up, I didn’t know where you were. You scared me.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

There was a long silence. Bård wasn’t sure, but he thought the new person was waiting for an explanation.

 

“This is one of Big Bosi’s hostages. We’re going to… help him.”

 

“He doesn’t look so good.”

 

“We need to get him inside. Will you help me?” Bård didn’t hear the response but he felt his arms being moved. It was that odd, ghostlike feeling you have when your arm (or in this case both arms) has fallen asleep. He could tell they were being touched and moving, but they felt far away. Momentarily, he wondered if his arms were attached to his body anymore. Dayo and the other person each took one of his arms and put it over their shoulder. Dayo was encouraging Bård to help them as they lifted him out of the trunk. He was trying, but his legs didn’t seem to work anymore, or maybe he just didn’t remember how to use them. Dayo must have given up on him walking because Bård soon realized that he was being carried and then set gently onto his back.

 

He felt like he was drifting in and out. Someone lifted his head and put a glass up to his lips. “Here, drink this.” When his head was set back down he noticed that there was a pillow under it. Then he noticed that his whole body was laying on something that felt unbelievably soft. He was on a bed.

 

“Let’s let him sleep.”

 

“No, Dayo. He’s really dehydrated and he’s too hot, I think he might have heat stroke. We need to cool down his body and make sure he’s had enough water before we let him sleep.”

 

Bård heard some discussion going on somewhere nearby. He was having a hard time following any of it. His head felt like it might split in two.

 

“I’m going to cut your t-shirt off.”

 

He wanted to ask why. Maybe even tell them not to touch him but he couldn’t. Soon he felt a wet sponge on his chest and arms.

 

“Dayo, take this and fan him. It will cool him down.”

 

The other voice kept dipping the sponge in cool water, eventually squeezing some onto his head and letting it run through his hair. It made him shiver but he wanted to ask them to keep doing it.

 

He was given another drink from one person as the other stripped him down to his boxers. The sponge was swept over his skin, from head to toe, leaving it damp. The cooling feeling as the water evaporated was soothing.

 

After they had repeatedly sponged him down, a thermometer was put in his mouth. “Don’t bite down.” The voice sounded so much like Dayo’s and yet not. It was younger and less tired.

 

“It’s 38.6℃. That’s probably good enough for now.”

 

Whoever belonged to that voice patiently gave him more sips of water, until he was more tired than thirsty. He must have fallen asleep because the next time he opened his eyes he was alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Army Ranger Command is one of the possible translations that I found for the Hærens Jegerkommando which is the Norwegian special forces unit. I considered not changing the name but, since the rest of the story is written in english, I thought it might make more sense to translate it. My apologies to any norwegian readers. :)
> 
> Also the Norwegian Intelligence Service is a real thing, as is the Norwegian Embassy in Abuja, Nigeria. Obviously, everything else about those three organizations is purely a product of my imagination (including the Scandinavian furniture in the embassy). 
> 
> Thanks so much for your kudos and comments. I love to hear what you think of my writing.


	16. Chapter 16

Bård woke up with a splitting headache. He lay there trying to will the pain away and slowly became aware that he was not lying on the floor. He opened his eyes a crack and saw that he was in a bedroom. The windows had yellow curtains and there was a photo of four smiling faces on the dresser. The events of a few hours ago were slowly coming back to him but it was all very hazy. The sensation of suffocating kept coming to mind, causing him to gasp for breath until he would realize, once again, that there was plenty of air. He had a vague memory of people coming in and out of the room while he slept, feeling his forehead, wetting his skin to cool him. It was confusing but comforting at the same time.

 

He could tell that he had slept for quite a while, his body hurt from lying in the same position as he had fallen asleep. The people… the people who had been taken care of him… where were they? He raised his head to survey the room and the world started spinning around him... so much so that he clung to the sheets to keep from falling out of bed. When the feeling passed he glanced around the room as best he could without moving his head and saw that he was alone.

 

He wasn’t sure if he could get up off of the bed, but he thought he should try. Pushing up with his hands he managed to raise himself so that he was leaning on his elbows. The movement made his head throb and the room began to spin dangerously again, so he lay back down, closed his eyes and raised his hand to massage his forehead. That was when he realized that he was handcuffed to the bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Eight hours earlier…_

 

Gabriel was sitting at a computer, trying to get more information about heat stroke. Dayo felt a little proud as he watched him studying up on the topic. His little brother had always been interested in medicine and the way he had taken care of Bård a few minutes ago was pretty impressive.

 

“So, you think we got his temperature down enough?”

 

Gabriel looked up from the computer for only a second before turning back to the screen. “Yeah, I think so. It says his temperature should be kept down between 38.3℃ and 39℃.  We’ll have to check him regularly and cool him off if his temperature rises above that. It sounds like that probably will happen. Maybe we should just take him to the hospital.”

 

“No… no we don’t need to do that.” Dayo was trying to sound casual, but that was not what he wanted to hear.

 

Gabriel tore himself away from the screen and directed all of his attention toward Dayo. “Heat stroke is really serious.”

 

“It’s not necessary.” Why couldn’t Gabriel just drop it?

 

Gabriel looked at him very seriously. “Dayo… he could die.”

 

“I said NO!” Dayo barked at his little brother, causing the younger one to shrink from him. Seeing his brother’s reaction brought him back to his senses. He didn’t want Gabriel to be afraid of him. That was the last thing he would ever want. “I’m sorry. We’ll just have to make sure we keep him cool enough. Will he be better in a few hours or will this go on for a few days?

 

“What do you mean? How long is he staying here?”

 

Dayo didn’t answer.

 

“Dayo. You said you were helping him, right?”

 

“Yes, I said that.” How was he going to explain this to Gabriel? He needed to explain it so that Gabriel wouldn’t think they were doing something wrong.

 

 

>  When Vegard asked him to help Bård, Dayo wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, but he did like the brothers and he definitely felt for Vegard.

 

“Gabriel, sit down.”

 

> He had heard the rumor that, whether the ransom was paid or not, Vegard was as good as dead. It was too bad. He hadn’t heard why, he supposed Vegard had upset Big Bosi in some way.

 

Gabriel looked worried as he took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.

 

>  Helping Bård was a dangerous proposition, but not an impossible one for Dayo. He knew the building where Bård was being held quite well, just as he knew most of the holding sites. He knew where the guards were stationed and when they made their rounds. He knew what happened if a hostage got out. He knew his fellow guards and (unlike some people) he knew how to wait for his moment and not panic. Like Vegard had said, he was smart, he could figure it out.

 

 “You don’t need to worry, it’s all going to be alright. Remember when you asked me to stop working for Big Bosi?” Dayo paused until he saw Gabriel nod. “I hadn’t realized until then that you were so worried about my safety. So, I’ve been thinking about what you said…. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I don’t want to die and leave you here alone.”

 

>  It had taken him about an hour to come up with a plan… including mapping out what time most of the guards would be on break and making a list of which off-duty guards he wanted to call in for the search party - some of them were really worthless, and they were at the top of his list.

 

“I don’t understand. What does that have to do with…” Dayo cut him off.

 

>  That left him with the decision - should he do this? Was it worth the risk? Why should he take such a big chance?

 

“Let me finish. If I’m going to stop working for Big Bosi, we’ll need money - more money than you and I can make right now. We need enough to get started, enough to live off of until we’re done with school.”

 

>  And that was when it came to him. Helping Bård to escape could benefit all of them.

 

“So, we’re going to keep him here, for a little while, and collect the ransom ourselves.”

 

>  Big Bosi paid him well, but it wasn’t even a fraction of the money that Big Bosi took in from just one kidnapping. If Dayo could get paid for Bård, he could quit working for Big Bosi.

 

Gabriel looked at him. His mouth was agape and when he finally did speak it came out in barely a whisper. “ _We’re_ going to collect the _ransom_?”

 

>  They would have to keep a low profile, he wouldn’t want anyone to suspect that they had come into a lot of money.

 

 “Yes. I’ve seen how it works. It’s not that difficult.”

 

>  It was the answer to their problems. Just one ransom would ensure a better life for his little brother, as well as himself.  

 

Gabriel was still staring at him in disbelief. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

 

>  Dayo had thought that Bård would be safer in his hands than with Big Bosi, but he hadn’t counted on him being in the trunk for that long. Hopefully, Bård would live long enough for them to collect the ransom.

 

“I just need you to take care of him for a while. You won’t have to do anything else. I promise. I’ll take care of the rest.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Almost every evening, Vegard watched the sunset through his prison window. It was particularly beautiful tonight. He thought it was odd that there could be such beauty in the world when everything around him was falling apart. But then, the world didn’t revolve around him, he knew that. Other people were going on with their lives... meeting friends for dinner, having a glass of wine, watching sunsets… just as they had before.

 

Sighing, he turned away from the window and lay back on his bed. Today had been a long day. He didn’t usually spend the day waiting for something to happen, but today he had. Vegard had hoped that Dayo might come back at least once today. He wanted know if he’d thought more about helping Bård. And he wanted to push him to do that if at all possible. But, he hadn’t seen Dayo all day, not even just walking around outside.

 

It was foolish to get so hopeful over such a small comment. It was foolish to consider “It would be dangerous for me” as a positive comment. Perhaps being locked up for so long had clouded his reasoning. But there had been a moment, he was almost sure of it, when Dayo had pictured his own little brother being held hostage.

 

He shook his head and let out a breath. Obsessing over it was not going to make it happen. There had to be something else that could occupy his brain. A plan. He needed some kind of plan to change Big Bosi’s mind, so that he could get out of this alive. What if he could convince them that he had no idea about Bo’s connection with Big Bosi? It seemed a little late to start asking about Bo’s condition, as if he had no idea that he wasn’t being held captive. He kicked himself for not thinking of that in the first place. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander… and eventually he fell asleep.

 

_He was in the jungle. No….  it felt like the jungle... but there were buildings. It sort of looked like home. And then it definitely looked like home, except for the monkey calls that seemed to be all around him. He was definitely in Norway…AND he was in the jungle… with monkeys. Even in his dream he was a little confused by that._

_He was surprised to see that he was in his Home Guard uniform and he was quite taken aback when he noticed that he was holding an HK416 rifle. There had been a few men standing next to him, who he now noticed were armed and in their uniforms as well. Then he was running, and there were at least a dozen uniformed men running with him, toward the center of town. Everything looked very familiar and odd at the same time - as if he were running along Bryggen but the colorful buildings weren’t facing a harbor, they were lined with palm trees which were filled with monkeys, happily swinging from branch to branch._

_He heard it before he saw it and there was no mistaking the sound. The steady whop-whop-whop cut through the noise of the jungle, until that was practically all he could hear. Looking up, he could barely make out the helicopter through the thick foliage. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to get on the helicopter or if he was supposed to be meeting someone. He felt really unprepared. He didn’t know what to…._

 

There was a loud crash and then there were voices. He opened his eyes and saw a flashlight shining directly at him. “What’s your name. Vie heißen Sie?” The man was shouting.

 

It was completely disorienting. Where was he? He could hear some gunfire going on outside and a helicopter flying overhead. It felt like one of those drug raids that you see on TV. He could see that there was more than one man peering into his room and they each had M4A1 assault rifles. The first man tried to turn on the lights. “They’ve cut the power,” he shouted over his shoulder.

 

The man approached him and brought his voice down a bit - as much as one could when total chaos was happening just outside the window. “What’s your name? Do you speak english? Vie heißen Sie?”

 

“Vegard. Vegard Ylvisåker.”

 

“Good! We’re here for you. I’m Lieutenant Armstrong…. I’m an American… a good guy. Do you understand? ME GOOD GUY.” He pointed to himself, just to make sure there was no doubt.

 

Why did Americans always think that non-English speakers would suddenly understand them if they spoke slowly and loudly enough? “Yes…  Yes, I speak English.” It would have been comical, but there was enough gunfire outside for him to remain quite sober.

 

“Okay. Good. Can you walk?”

 

“Uh...no. Not really. I can’t put weight on my right leg.”

 

“That’s alright. Put your arm around me.”

 

Vegard groaned as the lieutenant lifted his right arm much higher than comfortable. The lieutenant looked at him with concern. “My ribs... don’t worry about it.”

 

With the help of Lt. Armstrong, Vegard started making his way toward the front door. The lieutenant turned off his flashlight, but not before Vegard saw the SEAL Team Three patch on the uniform in front of them.

 

"What about my brother? Has somebody found him?"

 

The lieutenant ignored him - or possibly couldn't hear him over the gunfire. He and the lieutenant were standing back about eight feet from the doorway. One SEAL had taken a knee just inside the doorway and was exchanging gunfire with someone on a roof across the courtyard. A bullet found it’s way through the open door and hit the wall a couple of feet from Vegard’s head.

 

Lt. Armstrong pushed him to the other side of the hallway and then signaled him to get down. The lieutenant placed himself in front of Vegard to shield him. He felt a little uncomfortable being protected in that way, but then he realized that the SEAL most likely had a bullet proof vest, not to mention his helmet.

 

From his new vantage point, looking over Armstrong’s shoulder, he could see that there was another SEAL just outside of the building, using the front steps for cover. The two marksmen were alternately aiming their rifles at three or four different locations. He wasn't sure how many guards were on duty at this time of night, but he knew that every evening at least twenty new guards usually arrived. If any of them had been sleeping, they were up by now. The sound was overwhelming and the way it echoed off the buildings in the courtyard made it difficult to know where the shots were coming from.

 

There was a helicopter hovering above the courtyard, high enough that it was probably out of range of the gunmen’s rifles. Vegard had never seen any evidence that the kidnappers were in possession of any more powerful weapons and he hoped that was the case. If they had anything that could take down a helicopter they were screwed.

 

A few more bullets hit the hallway walls. Each time, Lt. Armstrong turned to check on him and then looked to verify that the bullet had lodged in the wall. They were lucky that the bullets weren’t ricocheting. Every minute or two a flare was thrown from one or another of the guard’s rooftop positions. They lit up the courtyard, making the SEAL’s positions much more obvious.

 

It seemed to Vegard that something must have gone wrong with the rescue plan. The guards had the SEALs in a defensive position. He was confident that the SEALs were much better shots, and it was obvious that they were not wasting their ammunition by shooting blindly, but it concerned him that the gunmen might have access to more ammunition. He reminded himself that the SEALs were probably aware of that possibility. He was pretty sure that they would not wait until they were almost out of ammo to make a move. At some point, they would attempt to get everyone onto the helicopter, whether they had been able to neutralize the kidnappers or not.

 

That moment came sooner than Vegard had expected. Lt. Armstrong turned to him and signaled that the helicopter was going to land. Then Armstrong pointed a finger at Vegard, two fingers to his own eyes, and one finger at his own chest. Vegard nodded, but wondered what else the lieutenant thought he was going to do. He had already been watching Armstrong very intently, because he wasn't going anywhere on his own power.

 

As the helicopter descended, Armstrong started signalling more instructions to the other SEALs. Some people, from across the courtyard, started moving toward the center of the courtyard before the helicopter had even landed. They were piling onto the helicopter as soon as it touched the ground. At the same time a second group, of at least four SEALs and what looked to be two hostages, began running toward the helicopter from somewhere to the right of Vegard’s field of vision. About halfway to the chopper, one of the hostages fell. There was enough light to see that he had been shot. Two SEALs grabbed him under the arms and helped him to the chopper.

 

Lt. Armstrong grabbed Vegard and indicated that he should follow. Vegard hobbled along, aided by the hallway walls. At the doorway, Armstrong seemed to remember that Vegard needed help. He turned to grab him under the arm and they began to make their way to the chopper.

 

Stepping out of the safety of the house was frightening. Now they were only protected by the cover fire that the other SEALs were giving them. Another flare was thrown into the courtyard by one of the kidnappers, lighting it up like midmorning. Ten feet from the chopper Vegard felt himself falling to the ground. He looked up and saw two SEALs jump off of the helicopter. They were swiftly at his side and helping him onto the chopper. Looking back, he saw two other SEALs lift a bleeding Armstrong onto the chopper just moments before it took off.  

 

There was no time to move away from the door, so one of the SEALs pushed him down, flat on his stomach, and then shielded Vegard with his body. The helicopter took off quickly, a few bullets chinking the side before they were out of range. Once they were high enough, he was allowed to get up. He sat on the floor and looked over where a couple of the men were giving Armstrong first aid.

 

"Are you alright? Did you get hit?”

 

Vegard kept looking at Armstrong. Was he dead?

 

He felt a hand squeeze his arm. "Are you shot?" The SEAL who had just shielded him was trying to get his attention.

 

"No. I think I'm ok."

 

"Good. Let me help you. We need to get you buckled in." He was helped up to his feet, moved to a seat and buckled in.

 

The SEAL noticed that he was still watching Armstrong. "Hey. Don't worry about him. He's a stubborn son of a bitch. He'll be fine." The SEAL, whose name patch said "Walker", then sat down next to Vegard. Walker took Vegard's wrist in his hand, which after a few seconds he understood was to take his pulse. Walker set his wrist down gently and then turned to look him in the eye. "Are you ok?" Vegard nodded. He really wasn't sure, but he knew he wasn't shot like Armstrong, so he wasn't going to complain.

 

His heart rate was coming back down to a more normal rate. Vegard took his eyes off of Armstrong and glanced around the rest of the cabin. There were about a dozen uniformed men, all Navy SEALs, he supposed. There were also four other men, in various states of health. Two were sitting, like Vegard, with one or two SEALs beside them. The other two were sitting close together. He couldn’t stop staring at them. He saw them hugging. One of them was crying. It was obviously a reunion.

 

He looked around the cabin again, hopefully… or maybe just wishfully, but Bård was not there.

 

“Where's my brother?”  

 

“What?”

 

“Where's my brother? Are we going to rescue him next?”

 

“He was probably being held at a different location.”

 

“But you need to get him out. Don't you know where he is?”

 

“If he's at one of the holding sites, someone will find him. British and Norwegian special forces are also involved in this operation. Our mission was to rescue hostages at this location, we are heading to the hospital in Enugu now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The helicopter arrived at the hospital after only a few minutes. Walker and another SEAL helped Vegard exit the helicopter and made sure that he was safely on a gurney before stepping aside for some of the ER staff. He was quickly wheeled away to the emergency room, a triage nurse was asking him questions and assessing his injuries as they walked. He hadn’t even thought to thank the SEALs and they were already gone.

 

And then he was alone. Vegard looked around the curtained space he’d been brought to. He supposed under normal circumstances that he would have appreciated the privacy of the curtains, but he wanted to see what was going on and especially who was being brought in. Every few minutes one of the nurses came in to monitor his vitals. He asked each of them about Bård, and they kept reassuring him that his brother was fine. All of the hostages were arriving with some health issues, but none of them were in critical condition. Then they each patted his hand and told him to rest, just before they left him alone to worry in his curtained seclusion.

 

He considered getting out of bed and looking around himself. But he really couldn’t put weight on his leg - that point had been driven home during the escape. Vegard had thought that maybe he could put weight on his leg, just grit it out and ignore the pain, at least while they ran to the helicopter. But, it wasn’t just a matter of pain, his leg would not support him. So, without crutches or something to help him get around he was pretty much stuck.

 

It was a relief when a doctor finally entered his small curtained space.

 

“Hello. I’m Dr. Okpi and you are…” It sounded like a question, but Dr. Okpi was reading his chart and appeared to be finding everything he wanted to know.

 

“My name is Vegard.”

 

“Oh, is that how you pronounce it?” The doctor put the chart down and approached him.

 

“Yes. Have you seen my brother?”

 

“I need you to be quiet while I listen to your chest.” He placed a stethoscope on Vegard’s chest and asked him to breathe.

 

Vegard rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Not only would he rather have talked about Bård, but he wished the doctor would at least look at his leg.

 

“You are very bruised.” The doctor was gently examining his ribs. “Does this cause you pain?” He pushed on one of the broken ribs - still gently, but just a little more firmly.

 

“Yes.”

 

Dr. Okpi nodded and continued running his hands over Vegard checking for injuries.

 

“Doctor. I need to ask you about my brother.”

 

“I’m sure he is being well cared for. This is an excellent hospital.”

 

“Have you seen him? His name is Bård.”

 

Dr. Okpi was looking at Vegard’s leg. “How did you get this injury?”

 

“I was hit with a large stick, a broom handle or something.”

 

“And you can’t put any weight on it?”

 

“No. The swelling has gone down a bit from what it was. My brother?”

 

The doctor stopped examining him and looked him in the eyes. “Your brother. Boar?”

 

“Bård.”

 

“No I have not seen him, but there were a number of people brought in almost all at the same time. We have been very busy attending to everyone. Was he not being held with you?”

 

“Right. He was somewhere else.”

 

“I’ll see what I can find out. We will need to take you to X-ray to find out what’s going on with your knee…. and your ribs.” Before he realized what was happening Dr. Okpi turned around with a syringe and gave him a sedative. “But, for now, I want you to close your eyes and rest. There are a few people that are in line ahead of you.”

 

“Why did you…? I don’t want to sleep.” Vegard tried to register his displeasure but the doctor was already on his way out through the curtain. He was so frustrated. He didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to see Bård. It didn’t really matter that he was unhappy about it, within forty-five minutes of arriving at the hospital, he fell into a deep, relaxed sleep.

 

A few hours later he came to. At first he didn’t know where he was, he couldn’t remember what had happened. But then he heard the sounds of a hospital going on just outside of his door. He was still sleepy, but he was curious about what was going on. He opened his eyes and looked around.  He was in a regular room now. He looked a little further and his gaze landed on a very familiar pair of blue eyes.

 

“Calle?” His voice sounded gravelly and he realized his throat was very dry.

 

“Yeah. Glad you know who I am. How do you feel?” Calle touched his hand and turned to pour a cup of water.

 

“I don’t know. Tired I guess.”

 

“Here. Drink this.”

 

He sat up a little to drink the water, his ribs were still painful but also felt compressed. He looked down at his hospital gown covered chest, trying to make sense of it.

 

“They bandaged your broken ribs. I’m sure it’s a little uncomfortable.”

 

“And my leg?”

 

You have a broken leg and a torn ligament. They’re going to do surgery on it later today.

 

Later today? He had lost all sense of time. He looked out the window and saw that the sun was shining brightly. It must have been midday.

 

“How is Bård?”

 

Calle looked away from him. He looked nervous.

 

Vegard thought it was a pretty straight-forward question. He tried again. “Calle. How is Bård? Is he hurt? Did he get hurt in the rescue? What?”

 

“Vegard...” He took a breath and when he spoke again he sounded a little shaky. “… they… they didn’t find him.”

 

“What do you mean?” He’d heard the words but he was having trouble understanding them.

 

“He wasn’t there. He wasn’t where they thought he would be. They don’t know what happened.”

 

“No. No, he promised me. He’s supposed to be here.”

 

“They’re not sure what it means. There are two other hostages that they had expected to find that weren’t there either.” Calle couldn’t look at Vegard’s face, so he kept his eyes down. “They think they might have been taken to another location.”

 

“Where?” Vegard felt tears coming to his eyes. This was supposed to be over.

 

“I’ve already called Counselor Rasmussen at the Norwegian embassy. The NIS was quite surprised and embarrassed by this.” Calle thought to himself that now he was just rambling. He was just filling up the emptiness that came from not knowing, with the sound of his own voice. “They were certain that they knew where all of the hostages were. They weren’t going to make a move unless they were certain.”

 

“So, what does that mean?”

 

“They don’t know where he is, Vegard. He could be anywhere.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read this. You have no idea how happy that makes me. :D
> 
> It took me a little longer to write this because I started thinking about Attack of the Blues and before I knew it I was trying to write chapters for two different stories at the same time. So, if any of you are excited for another chapter of AotB there should be one in the near future. For those of you who maybe couldn't care less about that, sorry for babbling on about non-Nollywood stuff.
> 
> Thanks for all of your support! I love to hear from you.


	17. Chapter 17

_4 am... shortly after Vegard and the others are rescued..._

“Gabriel. Wake up.” Dayo gently shook his brother’s shoulder.

 

“Uhhhhh. What time is it?”

 

“I don’t know, the middle of the night. I need your help.”

 

“I left him handcuffed, isn’t he there?” Gabriel’s voice was muffled since he was practically talking into his pillow.

 

“It’s not that. Could you please get up?”

 

Gabriel struggled to sit up, still keeping his eyes mostly closed. He wondered if he could do whatever it was that Dayo wanted without opening his eyes. He'd already gotten up once tonight to check on Bård, he was tired.

 

“I need you to come into the kitchen where there is better light.”

 

Sighing, Gabriel stood up and slowly followed the shadowy figure of his brother down the hall and into the kitchen. That was when he really got a look at Dayo.

 

“No! What happened?” Gabriel ran over to Dayo and threw his arms around his big brother. "No! "

 

“Gabriel, calm down.” Dayo tried to hug him back with one arm, the other arm being in too much pain to be of much use at the moment.

 

“But you’re bleeding!”

 

“I know. I’ve been shot. But I walked here on my own power. It’s not life threatening. I need you to get the bullet out and stitch me up.”

 

Gabriel stepped back and stared at the injured shoulder. Even though this was exactly what he had worried about, it was difficult to believe that his brother had been shot. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

 

“No. I can’t go to the hospital, I need you to take care of it. ”

 

“But… but you need a doctor.”

 

“Gabriel. Listen. If I go to the hospital, I’ll have to explain how I got shot. I don’t know what I would say that wouldn’t sound suspicious. Even if we didn’t have a hostage here it would be dangerous. I can’t take that chance right now.”

 

Gabriel looked at him, wide eyed. “So, you want me to…”

 

“Yes. I trust you. I know you’ll do a good job.”

 

Gabriel glanced back and forth from the wound to Dayo’s eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath, let it out and started to undress Dayo so he could inspect the wound. He’d never seen a bullet wound before. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Surprisingly it wasn’t as bad as he had been preparing himself for. “I’ll need you to lie down. I’ll have to clean it out really well.”

 

Dayo sat on the kitchen table and lay back. There was a bright light fixture hanging over the table and he thought that would probably be the best spot for this impromptu surgery.

 

Gabriel found some bleach and began to sterilize a few items to use as makeshift surgical instruments. While they were soaking he looked online, hoping for some kind of instructions.

 

“Why don’t you just do it? You’re making such a big production out of it.”

 

“Shut up! If you’re going to make me do this, I’m going to do it right. If I don’t sterilize everything your wound will get infected.”

 

It amused Dayo to see his brother take charge. At the same time he realized that he was lucky to have someone who was not only willing to do this, but determined to do it right. “Ok, Doc. I’ll shut up."

 

When everything was sterilized, Gabriel began cleaning out the wound. While he worked he questioned Dayo, partly to distract Dayo from the pain, but also because he really wanted to know. “What happened?”

 

“We were invaded by some sort of special forces unit. They took us by surprise.”

 

Gabriel huffed out a small laugh. “Well, yeah! Why wouldn’t it have been a surprise?”

 

“Big Bosi has at least half of the Enugu police force on his payroll. He usually knows if there is a rescue operation in the works.”

 

“Hold still! You can’t keep wiggling.” Gabriel went back to cleaning out the wound, trying to be a bit more gentle this time. “What would you have done if you’d known they were coming?”

 

“We have plans in place and we run drills regularly. We would have been waiting in our rooftop guard posts instead of scrambling to get our weapons. It was a mess. Some of the guards were sleeping when it began.”

 

“Were you sleeping?”

 

“No. I was in Big Bosi’s office. He was sleeping in a bedroom in the back when I answered the call from holding site 2. The guard was talking so fast I had a hard time understanding him. But then I heard gunfire and shouting in the background, so I ran to Big Bosi’s room and woke him up.”

 

“Uh huh...”

 

“As soon as he ended that call, another call came in.  After listening for a few seconds, he told me that there were at least seven uniformed men attacking the drop site and I should sound the ala _aaarrRM. Owwww!”_

 

Gabriel smiled. “I got the bullet.” He held it up as proof. “Keep going with the story.”

 

Dayo watched as his brother set the bullet down and then went to the sink and picked up a metal bowl which he had sterilized.

 

“What are you doing now?”

 

“I’m making a saline solution to flush out your wound.”

 

“Couldn’t you just…”

 

“Shhhh! You said you trusted me!”

 

“Yeah… alright.”

 

Gabriel waved his arms in a “please continue” sort of way so Dayo closed his eyes and kept talking.

 

“Before I even hit the alarm I heard gunfire. They had already arrived. I ran to cut the power and then crept to the front window to see what was happening. I could see the outlines of the special forces moving across the courtyard. They shot open a lock on one of the doors.”

 

“What about Big Bosi?”

 

“A couple of guards came upstairs from their bunks in the basement, Big Bosi grabbed his rifle and told them to follow him. They headed to the back of the building where we were holding two of the hostages. I think he was going to take them with him.”

 

“Wait! Are you saying that he left?”

 

“Um hmm. I’m pretty sure he left. There’s a tunnel from his office that leads to a hidden garage that’s only a few hundred meters away. The garage is mostly underground. He has a vehicle that he always keeps there for emergencies. He told me once that it has a system that has an infrared camera so that he can drive without using headlights.”

 

A small smile spread across Gabriel’s face. “That sounds like James Bond or something.”

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“So, then what?”

 

“I took my rifle and ran up to my assigned rooftop guard post. It seemed like we should be able to stop them. We had the better sight lines, and there were more of us. I thought for a while that we were beginning to make them retreat, but they knew what they were doing.”

 

“Did they take all of the hostages?”

 

“Yes, all but the ones that Big Bosi took off with. Before we knew what was happening they started moving the hostages, in small groups, to board a helicopter that was landing in the middle of the courtyard. That’s when everything got crazy. They started firing at us twice as much and we returned fire. We shot a couple of their people, I know I sho…. saw one of them get shot just before he got to the helicopter. That was when I got shot.”

 

Gabriel had threaded a needle and was examining his shoulder closely. It seemed that he was trying to decide where to begin. “Were any of the other guards shot?”

 

“Yeah. There were at least three others with wounds similar to mine....” Then, without really thinking, he added, “...and six guys died.” Dayo immediately wished he could take that back. Gabriel was already worried enough about his safety.

 

Gabriel looked up from his task. “They died?”

 

“Yeah, but they should have been more careful.” There was a moment of awkward silence as his little brother looked at him with concern. “They weren’t as careful as I am, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “ _You_ got shot.” He looked back down at the wound again. “You need to quit. You have to.”

 

“That’s what we’re doing.. _OWW!!_ Couldn’t you have warned me before you stuck a needle into me?”

 

Gabriel smiled. “Look out! Here it comes!”

 

Dayo scrunched up his face as his brother stitched up his wound. When Gabriel tied off the last knot, Dayo snuck a look at his brother’s handwork. There would probably be a small scar. “It’s going to be over soon. We’ll collect the ransom, and then I’ll quit working for Big Bosi, forever.”

 

Only a few minutes later, Dayo sat on the edge of his bed looking every bit as weary as he felt.

 

“You need to get some sleep. Finish that water first though, you lost a lot of blood.”

 

Picking up the cool glass of water, Dayo noticed that he felt a little dizzy. Perhaps his brother was right about how much blood he had lost. “How did you get so smart?” After drinking all the water he lay back on his bed.

 

“I’ve always been smart, you just haven’t noticed.” Gabriel waited for some kind of comeback but Dayo had fallen asleep almost immediately. Sighing, he covered his brother with a light blanket and went to check on his other “patient”.  

 

Gabriel opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake their captive guest, and crept quietly over to the bed. The light haired man was asleep, but his face was drawn, he seemed to be in pain. Gabriel reached out a hand and felt Bård’s forehead. Even without the thermometer he could tell that their guest was too hot. He set about lowering his temperature again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first thing Bård noticed was that his throbbing headache was back. But back from where? He knew he’d just had a headache, but couldn’t remember where he was. Maybe he was outside, it felt cold. Vegard. Where was Vegard? “Veguh?” He was shivering and the name didn’t come out clearly. “Vegard?” He tried again, this time with a little more success. When he opened his eyes he saw a young man, who looked vaguely familiar, fanning his moistened skin. Memories flooded back. The basement. The trunk of the car. The heat. And now here. Fastened to a bed. “T-t-too c-cold.”

 

“I know this feels cold, but I don’t think your temperature has gone down enough yet.”

 

The young man set down whatever he was using as a fan and reached for something else on the nightstand. Now Bård remembered. The young man was a doctor.

 

“Now that you’re awake... let’s get a reading.”

 

Bård thought he looked way too young to be a doctor. Maybe the requirements to practice medicine were different here. He wondered just how young someone could be and still be a doctor in Nigeria. This kid was practically a baby.  

 

“Here we go…..Open up…..”

 

A baby doctor. In Bård’s foggy state, he thought that was funny. He was aware enough to wonder if it would seem funny to him later. Either way, at least he had a name for his caretaker.

 

Baby Doc put a thermometer in Bård’s mouth and quietly stood next to his bed waiting for the results. “Don’t worry, after this you can go back to sleep. It’s only 5 in the morning.”

 

Closing his eyes, Bård tried to relax, occasionally shivering involuntarily.

 

“Don’t bite down.”

 

With some effort, Bård opened his heavy lids and responded with a nod.

 

“I know you’re tired, but it would help if you could stay awake for another minute.”

 

Bård nodded again and breathed out a weak, “uh huh.”

 

“I think you should be over the worst of this in a day or two. You need to ring this bell if you start to feel really hot. Remember, I set this next to you? Right here.” Baby Doc picked up a small brass bell and rang it lightly.

 

 _A bell? Ring it?_ He scrunched his eyes in puzzlement and shook his head slightly.

 

“You don’t remember, do you? Well, I’ll keep checking on you every 2 to 3 hours until you’re feeling better, ok?” Gabriel reached over and took the thermometer out of his mouth.  “38.8℃. That’s probably good for now. The websites say I need to be careful not to cool you down too far or I might overshoot and give you some kind of hypothermia.”

 

It struck Bård as odd that Baby Doc seemed to be taking such good care of him. As if the teenager genuinely wanted him to feel better. His eyes fell shut again. They felt dry and scratchy. Before he could drift off, he felt a hand gently shaking his arm.

 

“Wait. Don’t fall asleep yet. You should drink some water. It will help your body to work better at  regulating your core temperature.”

 

Baby Doc helped him lift his head and let him take sips of water until he groaned a little and lifted a his hand as a signal that he’d had enough. His eyes were closed before his head was back on the pillow. His headache wasn’t quite as severe at the moment. And he was so tired. He drifted off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was 6 am. Vegard had woken up suddenly an hour ago feeling anxious and certain that Bård needed him. He hoped that this feeling of connection meant that his brother was alive and closer than he had been before. He feared that it was just because Bård wasn't there and he wanted to think that he was nearby.

 

He couldn't get up to search for Bård in his current condition, and he wouldn't have known where start even if he could have, so he did the only thing he could, lie flat on his back and worry. It made him feel desperately alone. He wasn't completely alone, Calle was there, but he was asleep in a chair and Vegard didn’t want to wake him. If Bård were there, he’d be the one sleeping in the chair, or maybe lying in the other hospital bed. But Bård wasn’t there. They hadn’t found him.

 

His thoughts were racing, nervously obsessing about his brother. Was he still near Enugu or had they taken him to the jungle? Had they hurt him? Would they punish him in retaliation for the rescue mission? He thought about the beating he'd been given after trying to escape. It made him sick to think that they might do that to his little brother. If Big Bosi hadn't stopped it when he did, Vegard could very well have died.

 

He ran his hand through his hair. How could the NIS have missed that Bård had been moved? Calle told him that they thought they knew where everyone was, and that they “wouldn’t have made a move unless they were sure.” He knew what that meant, it would be very dangerous for anyone who was left behind.

 

“You’re awake?” Calle’s voice sounded sleepy

 

Vegard looked over to see Calle, still laying in the same crumpled position that he’d been sleeping in, hugging a pillow, his eyes half open. “Yeah. How are you? That couldn’t have been a comfortable place to sleep.”

 

“Eh… I’m ok.” Calle rubbed his neck as he tried to straighten out his back. “I guess I should have taken them up on a cot. How’s your leg?”

 

“It still aches, but it does feel good to have it stabilized in a cast.”

 

“I’m sorry about yesterday…I don’t know how I messed that up.  I guess I was distracted.”  Yesterday when the doctor talked to Calle about Vegard’s condition, he evidently said if Vegard needed surgery it would be later in the day,  not that he would have surgery later in the day.

 

“I told you, it doesn’t matter.” When the results from Vegard's MRI and X-rays came in, the doctor was satisfied that he didn't need surgery. Vegard couldn’t remember the details, he only knew that the doctor said his leg should heal well with a cast and eventual therapy.

 

“Alright.” Calle pushed his chair so that it was next to Vegard’s bed. Calle still sounded upset with himself, which really didn’t make much sense to Vegard. It was hard to believe he was concerned about such a small thing.

 

“What time do you suppose I can get out of here today?" Vegard had already decided that when the nurse came in, he was going to inform her that he was ready be discharged.

 

Calle tipped his head, looking concerned. “Just slow down. We should wait to hear what the doctor thinks about that.” Calle sat down next to Vegard’s bed and squeezed his hand for a few moments, and then they fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

 

Finally, a nurse entered the room to check Vegard’s vitals. Without saying much more that “good morning” she went about her business. Taking Vegard’s wrist in her hand, she concentrated on her watch as she took Vegard's pulse.

 

“I’m wondering when…”

 

“Shhh...” The nurse didn’t even look up to respond.

 

It seemed to Vegard that she was taking much more time than necessary. She was only verifying what he already knew - he was fine - and it was keeping him from something much more important - finding his brother.

 

She set his arm down and wrote on his chart. Vegard politely waited until she’d finished writing to try again. “I really need to get out of…”

 

“Shhh…” The nurse had a digital thermometer which she expertly navigated into his mouth before he had finished his sentence.

 

“I yus wontoo assoo uh eshon.”

 

“He just wants to ask you a question.” Calle was pretty good at this game. They often ate while they were working, at least when it came down to crunch time, and he was usually the best at interpreting everyone’s stuffed-mouth comments.

 

“Shhh… I need him to be quiet!” The nurse was a large woman who seemed to have been at this job for quite a while. As a warning for him to hold his tongue, the nurse gave Calle the evil eye, the heat of which he almost felt physically from across the room.

 

“Ok. Now I’m going to take your blood pressure.” She pulled the blood pressure cuff from where it was sitting, just to the side of the bed.

 

“May I speak now? I need to get out of here.”

 

Nurse Shhh, as Vegard had now dubbed her, was filling the cuff with air. This time she held her hand up to quiet him, along with her verbal command, “Shhh!”, and then turned her attention to her stethoscope. Vegard rolled his eyes and glanced at Calle. Despite the seriousness of their fears for Bård, Calle could see the humor in this situation and was trying his best not to laugh.

 

The cuff came off and Nurse Shhh was writing down her findings. When she finished, she picked up her things and began to leave. “Wait! Please, I need to ask you when I can get out of here.”

 

She turned around, looking like he was really testing her patience. “That’s up to the doctor.”

 

“When will he get here?”

 

“I don’t know. It will probably be a few more hours.” She turned and exited, apparently in no mood for any more questions.

 

When Nurse Shhh was gone and out of earshot, Vegard glanced at Calle expecting a small explosion of the giggles that his friend had been suppressing, but that moment had passed and all he saw was a  worried, tense face that mirrored his own.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright. Watch your step. You’re doing quite well on those crutches considering you just got them today.” Ngozi was talking non-stop to Vegard. Calle noticed because it wasn't like Ngozi to jabber endlessly. It was probably his way of dealing with Bård's absence.

 

Vegard already looked tired, even though it had only been a short walk from the hospital entrance to the car and a few more steps from the car to the house. “Would you like to sit down Vegard? You look a little pale.” His cracked ribs, appeared to make walking with crutches quite painful. Calle still couldn't believe that he'd talked the doctor into discharging him today.

 

"Yes, I guess I would."

 

Ngozi, noticing the pain on Vegard’s face, suggested that he might be more comfortable resting on his bed. Ngozi  had remade the bed in Calle’s room and moved Calle’s things into Mikael’s room, which had two twin beds.

 

"I don't know." 

 

Calle could see that Vegard wasn't up to making any decisions right now. “Ok. Come with me.” Calle took him back to the bedroom he'd been using. "This is probably the most comfortable bed." Vegard nodded wearily, as he sat on the bed.

 

Mikael entered the bedroom, carrying Bård and Vegard’s bags. He hadn’t been able to figure out which stuff belonged to Vegard and which to Bård, so he brought both pieces of luggage and both backpacks. As soon as Vegard saw Bård’s backpack any pretense he was trying to keep up about being fine went out the window.

 

Mikael looked mortified. “I’m sorry…” It came out as a whisper. Quickly, he set everything down and exited the room so that the two friends could be alone.

 

A few tears rolled down Vegard’s cheeks as he stared at his brother’s bag. “We were having a good time. I mean, Bård and I. We were having so much fun together that week, and then...”

 

Calle didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say that would change a thing, so he just sat with Vegard and hoped that would be enough. After a few minutes Vegard, admitting that he was exhausted, decided to lie down for a while.

 

“How is he? I shouldn’t have brought Bård’s bag in. I didn’t think.” Mikael looked apologetically at Calle as he returned to the living room.

 

“He’s upset, he’s exhausted. I really wish he would have stayed in the hospital for another night, but he’s so stubborn." Calle sat heavily on the couch. "They both are," he said more quietly, mostly to himself.

 

“Let me make you some tea, Calle.”  It was the only thing that he could do for Calle right now, so Ngozi left the room as if he were on an important mission.

 

Mikael looked at Calle with concern. “And how are you doing?” Seven weeks of being together under these stressful circumstances, had resulted in Mikael becoming very close to Calle.

 

“I can’t believe this. I understood that a rescue operation was risky, but I thought for sure….Maybe I shouldn’t have called the embassy. Maybe we should have just waited a little longer, paid another ransom.”

 

“I don’t think that’s true.”

 

“I think I really screwed up. Who knows where Bård is now?”

 

“Calle you know that’s not true. We were told repeatedly that the odds of them being released were dropping rapidly, week by week. We needed to do something.”

 

“I know. I just wish I knew that Bård was still ok.”

 

On the other side of Enugu, a few kilometers outside of the city limits, a small brass bell rang.

 

Within a minute someone placed a hand on a light haired man's overly warm forehead and then, once again, went about the task of bringing his temperature down.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this and for the kudos and comments. You guys are awesome!


	18. Chapter 18

Vegard was lying awake, staring at the bedroom wall. He was still having a difficult time processing the events of the last few days. Three days ago, he was being held captive and had very little hope of making it out alive, but at least he’d still had hope that Bård would be set free. Now, somehow, he was the one who was free and it was Bård whose chances seemed to be slipping away - if it wasn't already too late.

 

Vegard ran his hand over his eyes. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Bård was alright, he had to be, they just hadn't found him yet. The kidnappers wouldn’t hurt him, they just wanted the ransom money. (The beating he’d received from those same kidnappers came to mind, but he immediately pushed it to the back, as he had done with so many dark thoughts recently.) And Bård was level-headed. He wouldn’t do anything to piss off the kidnappers. Well, actually, when he thought about it, Bård was not particularly a rule follower. It was highly likely that he would want to say or do things that would upset the kidnappers. But he was smart and he had promised Vegard that he would take care of himself. Even though his little brother would absolutely hate it, Vegard knew that Bård could hold his tongue and just go along with the kidnappers. Therefore, Bård was still alright. He was alive, and they were going to find him soon.

 

Vegard sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. It produced enough light to illuminate the guest bedroom. The small room was cheerful and welcoming and the bed was very comfortable. He was sure that he would have been sleeping quite well, under different circumstances.

 

As he looked around the room he purposely avoided looking toward one corner of the space. All of his brother's things were sitting on the floor in that corner. Seeing his brother's bag and backpack last night had been painful. Bård had used that backpack almost every day for the last six years and the two of them had traveled together so often that Bård’s luggage bag was as familiar to Vegard as his own. It was incredibly jarring to see those items without Bård being somewhere nearby.

 

Even though he was certain that it wouldn't be any easier this time, he felt like he needed to look at them again. They were his brother’s bags, filled with his brother's things, and seeing them had made him feel somewhat connected to Bård, as well as extremely sad.

 

Slowly, his eyes swept over the room and to that corner. He wasn't sure how things that were so common and utilitarian could feel so personal. Seeing the bags immediately brought him back to their last morning at the hotel: the Taylor Swift song, Bård saying that he should trust him, and just their general goofing around as they got dressed for their movie roles. When he saw Bård take that stupid, faded-blue t-shirt out of the bag, he seriously considered telling him to wear something else, thinking that Bo might not appreciate Bård wearing a t-shirt that said: _Profil - The Original_.  But the only image on the shirt was a blue heart and the whole thing was pretty washed out, it didn't seem very likely that Bo would even realize that it was advertising for condoms. And it amused Vegard to think of what the censors for their show might say, so he kept quiet.

 

Vegard glanced at the bags again and shook his head. For some reason he felt disappointed.  Had he thought, that by looking at his brother’s bags, he would be able to divine Bård’s location? That was ridiculous. Of course not! He didn’t believe in psychic powers. But there were times when he and Bård were so in sync that _even he_ wondered if he and his brother could read each other’s minds. He sighed. Maybe looking at the bags had been a mistake.

 

According to the bedside clock it was only 3:32 am. He'd barely slept at all last night, but he didn’t think he was going to get back to sleep now, so he decided to get up. He wanted to keep Bård’s things in his room, he felt like he needed to take care of them, but they really were difficult to look at right now so Vegard hobbled over to the corner of the room and, taking a small blanket off the back of the rocking chair, carefully covered the bags. It was going to be ok, he tried to tell himself, it would only be temporary. Bård was going to come back for his bags. He repeated that to himself a few more times as he made his way down the hall on his crutches.

 

There was a small sitting room in the front of the house, just off of the living room. It had a good view of whatever was going on in the neighborhood, which at this hour was absolutely nothing. He needed a place where he could think, and this room felt cozy and safe. The room contained two high-backed chairs and two matching ottomans. Vegard sank down into one of the overstuffed chairs and, with some effort, managed to set his casted leg up onto the ottoman. Everything was so quiet, not just inside the house, but outside as well. Calm and peaceful. It didn’t fit with the way he felt. Why did he have to have this stupid injured knee? He wanted to do something to find his brother, search from house to house or at least go talk to someone, but he wasn’t going anywhere right now, not with that knee. In fact, it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to climb back out of this chair without help, it was exceptionally soft and seemed to have half swallowed him alive.

 

So, he did the only thing he could do right now, think. Where was Bård? According to Calle, the NIS believed that once the kidnappers knew that they had been found, they would bug out to a safer location. It was likely they would head to the jungle, taking with them any hostages who hadn’t been rescued. There had to be satellite images that would show where the kidnappers had moved. He hoped the embassy would continue to work on finding Bård, but it worried him that, after such a large rescue operation, they might feel that they’d done all they could do.

 

What other resources did they have? Calle had already tapped into most of them. However, there was one more. Bo. He knew that Bo was Big Bosi’s brother. Perhaps that knowledge would buy him some information. He closed his eyes and focused on Bo. What did Bo know? Did he know where Big Bosi’s other safe places were? Was Bo still in communication with his brother? When Calle filled him in on their efforts to find him and his brother, he had made it clear that there was a lot of corruption on the police force. So, were the police to be trusted with information about Bo? Would it be better to alert the NIS to Bo’s involvement and relationship with the kidnappers and just keep the police out of it?

 

Vegard wasn’t sure. It worried him that exposing Bo’s connection with Big Bosi to anyone outside of this house could result in negative repercussions for his brother. It was the reason he hadn’t told anyone yet. But now, as he contemplated everything, he was coming to the conclusion that his information against Bo might be their best chance of finding Bård.

 

* * *

 

Calle had been awake and staring at the ceiling for a long time before he admitted defeat and decided to get up for the day. He looked at his phone briefly - 5:20 am - and then glanced at Mikael who was asleep on the other side of the room. At least someone was getting some rest. Standing up slowly, he attempted, unsuccessfully, to avoid the loud “errrrrrrrrrreeek!” of the bed springs. The sound made him cringe and freeze for a moment. He had noticed the squeakiness of his bed last night when he turned in, but the sound seemed especially loud compared to the stillness of the sleeping household. Calle turned his head to see if he had disturbed his new roommate. Mikael seemed to be completely oblivious to Calle’s movements, his low, steady snoring continued, unchanged.

 

Tiptoeing through the house, Calle headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. If he was going to get up, he might as well commit to it. For a moment he stood in front of the coffeemaker and stared at the wall, not really thinking about anything. When he became aware of his semi-catatonic state, he shook his head and went about the task. It always seemed unfair to him that one had to _make_ coffee before they were able to _have_ coffee. Really, how could someone be expected to do that?

 

Having gotten the water and ground the coffee beans, he pushed the “on” button and became mesmerized  by the bright red light on the small electric appliance. His mind wandered off. What if he could solve that problem? The whole _make coffee to have coffee_ problem must have some solution. He imagined himself accepting the Nobel Peace Prize for inventing a coffeemaker that required next to nothing from the coffee drinker. Perhaps it would have the ability to anticipate it’s owner’s coffee needs, so that it would beep cheerfully, indicating that the coffee was ready, at the same moment as the owner staggered, bleary-eyed, into the kitchen, longing for nothing more than a sip of liquid sustenance which would warm him like a cozy hug and energize him like a kick in the pants all at the same time. Surely that would be Peace Prize worthy. How many wars had been started by some cranky world leader who, in a caffeine deprived state, decided to lash out at the world? Too many to count, most likely.

 

He pictured himself smiling and waving as he crossed the stage, and then approaching the podium to make his acceptance speech. Did people make acceptance speeches when they won the Nobel Peace Prize? He thought so. He definitely would. "Thank you. Thank you. It is my honor to share my Your Coffee’s ReadyTM coffeemaker with the world, asking for very little more than the smiles on your faces... and 462 kr for the base model.” He would pause for the applause, understanding that the public had a substantial need to express their gratitude. He’d probably count to 20, just to make sure they’d had sufficient time to convey just how much they loved him. While he imagined waiting for the applause to begin to die down, he decided that the more expensive model would actually _say_ “Your Coffee’s Ready” instead of the usual series of beeps. Perhaps the most expensive model could have the feature of saying “Your Coffee’s Ready” in your choice of celebrity voices. He was just wondering if James Earl Jones would be available for a reasonable fee, when he remembered he was in the middle of his speech. “I’m happy that Your Coffee’s Ready TM  has brought so much joy to humankind. It's just my small way of giving back to society as a whole." He would look proudly at the Peace Prize Medal, which they probably would set into the side of a ceramic coffee mug in his honor, and then he would raise it high above his head in a salute to his people. “Skål!” The response would probably be deafening, so he’d look at the ground humbly and try to wave off the attention which (although richly deserved) was at this point becoming a bit embarrassing. Finally after one last bow, and amidst a wave of applause that would be showing no sign of letting up, he'd drop out of sight through a trap door. Always leave them wanting more.

 

Calle was smiling to himself, in the afterglow of receiving such wholehearted (albeit imaginary) idolization from the masses. Then he remembered that there already was something that would pretty much solve his dilemma. The single-serve coffeemakers with those little pods. Of course, they aren’t equipped with the mind-reading abilities of his imaginary invention, but then that might be a bit creepy. After all, what if the coffeemaker knew what was going on in his head _beyond_ his coffee needs? No one needed to know that.

 

The coffeemaker finally beeped, alerting him that the coffee was ready and snapping him out of his dreamlike stream of consciousness. Maybe they should get Ngozi one of those pod coffeemakers. It would be nice to get him a present for allowing them to stay with him.

 

He poured himself a cup and took it with him into the front sitting room.

 

“Where's my cup?"

 

“Aaack!” Calle jumped, spilling some coffee onto his t-shirt. He brought his voice down to an intense whisper. “You shouldn’t startle someone like that!”

 

“I said ‘hello’ to you twice and asked if you’d bring me a cup.” Vegard seemed slightly amused, but looked apologetically at his friend. “I thought you heard me.”

 

“Oh...sorry.” Calle returned to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee for Vegard and add more to his own cup to make up for what he had just spilled. “Here you go.”

 

“Thanks. What were you thinking about so deeply that you didn’t hear me?”

 

“Uh… the Nobel Peace Prize. The winners are … very important people.”

 

“Yeah…I guess that’s true…..” Sometimes Vegard couldn’t follow Calle’s train of thought. Much as he loved his friend, he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to.

 

* * *

 

_“Hurry up!!”_

 

This morning, when he woke up, Bård finally felt somewhat better. His temperature had stayed down most of the night so he had actually been able to sleep. Of course, now that he had been upright for a few minutes, he was beginning to feel the toll that the last few days had taken on his body. He was already beginning to feel like he needed to lie down. Bård stepped out of the shower and started to dry off.

 

He had wanted to take a long, hot shower, but after less than a minute of hot spray he had started to feel hot and dizzy again. Gabriel had warned him to keep the water temperature lukewarm so that he wouldn’t cause his internal temperature to rise, but Bård hadn’t listened to him. Gabriel was just a kid. After a few minutes of standing under the coldest water possible, he had started to feel better. Then his shower had been unceremoniously cut short by Dayo pounding on the door and demanding that he hurry up and get out.

 

Some clean clothes, that were not his own, were laying out for him. Before he was completely dressed, Dayo opened the bathroom door and told him again to hurry up. Gabriel pushed past Dayo and allowed Bård to lean on him as he limped back into the bedroom. Gabriel then guided him to sit in a chair by the window and set a small table in front of him before exiting the room. After a few moments he returned with a tray of food.

 

While Bård ate, Gabriel changed his sheets. Dayo was leaning against the wall holding his rifle. Bård noticed that  Dayo's arm was in a sling. “What happened to your arm?”

 

Gabriel began to say something, but Dayo quickly cut him off. “I fell off a ladder. It was one of those stupid things.”

 

Gabriel made a face that Bård caught out of the corner of his eye and then remarked under his breath, “Yeah, it was _stupid_.” Then he looked at Bård and spoke louder. “Alright, your bed is made.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Gabriel came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think you can eat some more? You went for quite a while without eating anything.”

 

The food tasted good and he knew he needed to rebuild his strength, but he just couldn’t eat anymore. Bård shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

 

“It's probably just as well. I wouldn't want you to try to eat too much too soon. Would you like some juice?”

 

“Gabriel, hurry up! He’s not your nne nne. Get him back into bed and be done.”

 

“I know he’s not my grandmother! Why don’t you just leave us alone? He’s not going to hurt me.”

 

“No way. Not until he’s handcuffed to the bed again.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes as soon as his back was turned to Dayo. Speaking quietly, he said, “I’ll get you some juice after you’re back in bed.”

 

“What are you whispering about!?” Dayo sounded very impatient.

 

“I said I was going to help him back to bed.”

 

With Gabriel’s help, Bård managed to stand up. He stood in one place for a few seconds until his sudden wave of dizziness passed. When his vision cleared he noticed that Gabriel had moved to his right side to help him walk. He nodded when asked if he thought he could walk now and felt a little relieved when he was finally back on the bed. He really needed to lie down.

 

“I’m sorry I have to do this.” Gabriel closed the handcuff around Bård’s left wrist. It didn’t hurt his wrist, but it gave him an anxious feeling, like that of being a caged animal. Even after all these weeks of being held captive, it was something that he'd never gotten numb to. It was like having his hand held over an open flame, he constantly felt an intense need to get away.

 

“Do you really have to do that?” Bård looked imploringly at Gabriel.

 

“Yes. But I had Dayo add a cable to it, so you would be able to move your arm more freely.”

 

Bård looked at the cuff on his left wrist and saw that the other cuff was latched onto a loop at one end of a flexible steel cable. When he followed the cable over the edge of the bed, he saw that the other end was wound around the bedframe and padlocked through the other loop.

 

“Thanks.” It felt like an odd thing to be thanking Gabriel for, but at least he could move his arm more comfortably now.

 

“You’re welcome. But for now I need you to roll back over and lie flat on your back. I’m going to look at your foot.”

 

“Ok.” This felt so surreal. He was being held against his will, but this young kid was being so gentle with him. Maybe it was all a dream.

 

“It’s looking so much better. Did you know it was infected when you got here?”

 

It was hard to remember, he still felt a little confused. He remembered cutting his foot. He remembered wrapping it with a rag. And he remembered that he’d barely been able to walk on it.  “I’m not sure.”

 

“I think that it may have been part of the reason for your fever. I’ve been taking care of it.”

 

Bård sat up a little and looked at his foot.

 

“It was badly swollen and red. It must have hurt a lot.”

 

Bård nodded.

 

“The infection wasn’t at the surface, so I had to open it up again. You’re probably kind of lucky that you were out of it during that.”

 

“How did you… what did you put on it?”

 

“Honey.”

 

“Honey?”

 

“Yes. It’s been used for centuries as an antibiotic, way before they knew what bacteria was.”

 

“So, that’s what people do here, put honey on their wounds? What do they put in their tea?”

 

Gabriel laughed a little. “No. If you went to a doctor… I mean, if anyone here went… normally we’d go to the doctor and get regular antibiotics. But… we couldn’t get those for you… ‘cause… well...  you know.”

 

Yes. He did know. _Oh! You mean because you’re holding me hostage?_ He wanted to say that, but he bit his tongue. Gabriel was being so kind to him. In fact, he'd probably saved his life, for now anyway.

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

He was going to do everything he could to keep Gabriel on his side. It wasn’t likely that he’d have a chance to escape, but if he were to find a way, he knew he’d need some help. He was almost certain that any hope he had of escape rested on Gabriel.

  

* * *

  

By the time Mikael and Ngozi came into the sitting room with their coffee, Calle and Vegard had decided that it would be best if the four of them went to Bo’s office themselves. Their plan was to act as if they had no idea about Bo's involvement and hope that he would let down his guard. They’d have to wing it from there, but maybe he’d let something slip or they’d see some information that would be of use.

 

It wasn’t much of a plan, they knew that, but they had to try something. They each grabbed something to eat and got dressed. In less than an hour they were driving over to Bo’s office.

 

As soon as they pulled up to the building, memories from the day of the kidnapping came flooding back to Vegard: meeting Bo’s crew, Bo’s assistant hugging the stuffing out of Bård, the outdoor market and Bård’s death scene. He remembered Jaja and the look of horror on the cameraman’s face when the events took a terrible turn… and then Bård, on his knees, with a gun pointed at his head. That was a memory that was always close to the surface. How was he going to pretend that he didn’t know of Bo’s involvement? Bo had gotten them into this. Most likely he had nominated them to his brother as being good kidnapping prospects.

 

“Vegard. Are you alright? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Calle had opened his car door and was speaking gently to him.

 

“No. I have to do this. I have to see his face.”

 

Calle studied him for a moment, and then stood up and offered his hand. “Ok. Come on. Let’s do this.”

 

Bo’s office building was shared by a number of unrelated businesses. Visitors were required to push the intercom button outside the front door and ask permission to enter from whomever they were visiting. After pushing the button for Bo’s office a few times with no response, Ngozi said, “Maybe they’re out filming. Should we come back later?”

 

Calle shook his head. “I’ve got this.” He began pushing buttons for the other offices.

 

Finally, someone responded. “Yes? Who’s there?”

 

“Yes. Hello. I’ve got a delivery for suite 102. They’re not responding.”

 

“Oh, alright. I’ll buzz you in.”

 

Calle looked back with a devious smile. They heard a loud buzz and a click and just like that they were inside.

 

“I had no idea you were capable of such subterfuge.” Michael’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

 

“Oh, I did.” Vegard’s comment elicited snickers from the others and, for the moment, put a small smile on his face.

 

They made their way down the hall to Bo’s offices. The door had a frosted glass window with _Chappal Waddi Productions_ written across it in bold letters, underneath in smaller letters was written _Boseda Oni - Producer_. They couldn’t see into the office, but it looked like the lights were off. There was a small plaque to the right of the door. It had an arrow, pointing to the button below, and it read:  _Please ring for admission._  Despite the stillness on the other side of the door, Mikael gave the button a push, and then a few more pushes, just in case.

 

After waiting for a minute, Mikael looked at his three companions, obviously disappointed. “Now what do we do?”

 

Vegard shrugged and shook his head. He had really wanted to get this over with.

 

“Should we break in?” Ngozi was looking around the hallway for something he could use to break the glass.

 

Calle contemplated for a moment and then stepped up to the door. He turned the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. “I can’t believe nobody tried that.”   

 

They were chuckling at Calle as they entered Bo’s office, however their laughter quickly died down as they looked around. Each of them stood mutely, trying to make sense of it. How could it be? The office was completely empty.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update. I guess I've been struggling with this one. However, as I was getting close to being done, I realized that I had basically written 2 chapters. Ha! So I'll put the next one up much sooner, when I'm done editing it. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience and your support! As always, I love to hear your comments. :)


	19. Chapter 19

Calle was the first to find his voice. “What the…?” He left the other three and walked into Ngozi’s private office.

 

“Where is everything?” Mikael surveyed the room. Three old, metal desks remained. They were bare, save for the out-of-date, rotary phones that sat on each of them. A couple of lamps and three ratty, matching chairs, which were clustered together in the reception area, had also been left behind. The movie posters, which Bo had so proudly framed and displayed in his office, were gone. There were no cameras or any of the editing equipment that had been there a few weeks ago. The shelves were empty of the hundreds of film reels that had lined them.

 

Mikael and Ngozi each began looking around, opening desk drawers, examining the few scraps of paper that had been left laying around.

 

After a couple of minutes Calle returned from looking through Ngozi’s office. “There’s nothing. I don’t understand it. We talked to him here. What was it, just over a week ago, right?”

 

Mikael was looking through the file cabinets hoping for some scrap of evidence. “Yes, that was the third time we talked to him.” He slammed the cabinet drawer in frustration.  "It's all gone!"

  

Silently, Vegard sat down on one of the ugly guest chairs. His face looked pale.

 

Mikael opened a storage closet and looked inside. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack… except they took most of the haystack away… and we don’t know if there ever was a needle in it.”  The closet was empty, except for a couple of bare shelving units and a few unopened boxes in a back corner. Mikael pulled the boxes out, and opened each of them. Box after box was filled with PAL video tapes, all copies of one of Bo’s movies, probably around 200 copies in all. “It says ©2002. I guess they didn't sell as many as they'd hoped.”

 

Ngozi was looking through the desk closest to the door. He’d emptied out the few contents that he’d found in the bottom drawer: a three-year-old phone book, a couple pads of paper, a few pens and rubber bands. He carefully checked through the notepads in case something had been written on them.

 

Eventually, Calle and Mikael and Ngozi found themselves staring at each other from different corners of the room  They’d looked through everything that had been left behind and had come up with nothing. Ngozi could see that Calle and Mikael didn’t know what to do next. “We should find the building manager. Bo may have left a forwarding address or… something.”

 

Calle looked over at Vegard, the look on his friend's face was more than disbelief, he was devastated. Calle suddenly realized that Vegard hadn't said a word since they'd entered the office. “Do you want to see if you can get a phone number? I’ll stay here with Vegard.” Mikael and Ngozi exited and Calle sat down next to Vegard. “This doesn’t change anything, you know. Not really.”

 

“I thought we’d learn something. Or, maybe tail him when he left.” Vegard just shook his head. “I guess I thought he’d have a harder time lying to me.”

 

Calle sighed. Now that they were sitting there, in the stripped down office, he wondered what he’d really thought would happen. If Bo had been there, he wouldn’t have said anything, not willingly. Still it was difficult not to feel the same lost feeling as Vegard. Bo was the only new lead that they had and now they had no idea where he’d gone. “Mikael’s comment about the needle in a haystack was right. We don’t know if there ever were any clues here that would have led us to Bård. We’ll just have to keep looking.”

 

Vegard nodded, but he looked like his mind was somewhere else.

 

* * *

 

What was it about Africa that always seemed to make him lose track of Bård? He thought about the first time that he lost Bård, when they had slipped through the gate of the small Norwegian housing compound in Angola. Bård couldn’t have been much older than seven. Vegard had regretted the decision almost right away. Not the decision to explore, he was becoming more excited about that by the minute, it was the decision to bring Bård along that he regretted. He knew that, as the big brother, it would be his job to keep an eye on Bård. It was always that way, but that day it felt like a burden. He just wanted to explore, not babysit. It made him feel sort of irritated. He remembered turning around and grabbing Bård and telling him that he’d better keep up. Even in that moment he sort of knew he was being too harsh, it wasn’t the way he normally talked to his brother at all, but he just felt so annoyed. Why couldn’t he, just for once, explore without Bård tagging along?

 

It hadn’t taken them long to walk to the center of town. The main square was a busy place circled by a variety of stores as well as a number of street vendors who had gathered for the lunch crowd. Shoppers and business people alike were walking through the square in all directions. It reminded Vegard of an ant colony someone had once brought to his school in Bergen. There was a fountain in the middle of the square and a musician who was sitting on the edge of the fountain and playing a classical guitar. The music drew them in, and he and Bård stood and listened to the musician for quite a while.

 

Vegard had just begun looking around the square, to see where he wanted to go next, when he felt something run across his foot. Glancing down, he saw that it was a lizard, with a bright orange head and a brilliant blue body. Vegard had been keeping track of all the different kinds of lizards he had seen in Africa. They were all around, often even in the house, so he had quite a list. But he’d never seen one like this before, so he ran after it wanting to get a better look. Vegard saw the lizard run across the square and under a food vendor’s cart, so he followed it and then dropped to his hands and knees so he could crawl under the cart and grab it. Before he got very close to it, the vendor yelled at him, demanding to know what he was up to. Sitting back on his heels, Vegard looked up to explain about the lizard, and by the time he looked back, the lizard had run across the sidewalk and was next to a building. He jumped to his feet and ran to catch up, but as he approached, it climbed up the wall and ran around the corner of the building. Vegard followed the creature, around the corner and down the street as it ran across the side of the building in spurts. Everytime he got close to it, it scooted a little further across the wall, but Vegard could be quite patient, as well as determined, and finally he managed to grab it.

 

With a triumphant smile on his face, Vegard turned around to show his little brother. “Look, Bård! Look at the cool colors.” That was when he realized that Bård wasn’t behind him.

 

At that moment everything else seemed to stop. His heart was pounding loudly in his ear, but he still strained his ears, hoping to hear Bård calling his name. He stood still and looked all around, but there was no sign of Bård. He set the lizard down hastily and ran back to the square and straight to the fountain, where the musician was still playing. When he didn't see his brother he ran around the fountain, in case Bård was hiding behind it.

 

Vegard tried to remain calm but he was starting to feel more and more worried. His heart was racing as he slowly turned around letting his eyes scan the entire square. He remembered thinking that his brother couldn’t have just disappeared. Not knowing what else to do, he began searching the small shops that surrounded the square, running from door to door. He hoped that maybe his brother had gone into a shop to look at something he’d seen in a window, or into the small fruit market because he was hungry, but he couldn't find him anywhere.

 

Vegard had felt very close to crying. Where was his little brother?  _His_ little brother. Suddenly, he realized that he’d rather have Bård come exploring with him than be on his own, but he’d ignored Bård and now he was gone. Maybe somebody had taken him. Maybe Bård had left on his own because he felt unwanted. There was a nice looking woman, at the counter in the last shop he entered and he almost approached her for help, but he really didn’t want to believe this was happening and somehow he knew that once he’d said it out loud, it would be real.

 

Fortunately, as soon as he stepped out of that store, Vegard saw a familiar figure standing on the edge of the square while busy people walked past him, unaware of his presence. He ran to Bård and threw his arms around him. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” He hugged Bård tightly and then turned him around, only to see that he was sobbing. The thought that he had frightened Bård so terribly upset him greatly, and made him want to cry, but he didn’t let himself. He wanted Bård to feel safe and to know that his big brother was going to look out for him. He needed to fix this. He'd hugged him tightly and taken him straight home.

 

He’d never really understood why Bård came up to his bedroom that afternoon and asked if he'd read to him. He'd actually been afraid that Bård might be mad at him. But he was glad to have a chance to try to make it up to his little brother, to comfort him a bit. He hadn’t read very long before he realized that Bård was asleep. Bård was hugging him as if he'd been the one who was lost. He had hugged him back and silently made him a promise.

 

Whenever their mom told that story, the emotions from that day always felt overwhelming. So, he’d make a stupid joke about how he should have just left Bård there so that their mother wouldn’t have punished him at all. Bård would always start laughing, and that sound always made him feel better. 

 

* * *

 

“Vegard? Vegard, the building manager is here.” Calle was rubbing his forearm, trying to get his attention.

 

Mikael and Ngozi had gotten a phone number for the building manager from a neighboring office without much trouble, and he had offered to come over immediately. He introduced himself as Zaki Tinibu and shook Ngozi’s hand before the bare office caught his eye. He spent the next few moments gaping at the space, the same way the four of them had when they’d arrived. "Wow. You're right! _Everything_ is gone. I mean, not that I didn’t think you knew what you were talking about, but... just ...wow!"

 

"You didn't know he was leaving?" Mikael was studying the man’s face, looking for any indication that he was hiding something.

 

"No. Bo has been a tenant here since 1999. His movies have had a lot of success since then, he probably could have afforded a nicer office, but when it was time to renew the lease he always said he liked it here. Well, I think what he said was, 'Why go to the trouble of moving, when most of the time I'm off filming anyway?' I'm sure he didn't love it, but I'm surprised he'd just leave without telling me."

 

“Was he behind on his rent?” Calle had joined Ngozi and Mikael, wanting to observe the man as well as hear his answers. As Zaki began speaking, Calle looked over at Vegard and with a subtle nod of his head encouraged him to join them.

 

“Eh… maybe a little. His business never really provided a steady cash flow. It wasn’t unusual for him to get behind two or three months rent and then pay it back all at once. Of course, when he first moved in, that was a major concern. But after years of him always paying up, the building’s owner has become more lax with Bo and has allowed him a lot more flexibility with his payments. Bo was gone a lot, didn’t cause problems, didn’t ask for much from us. I guess in some ways he was an ideal tenant.

 

Vegard had stood up and joined the others by the time Ngozi asked his question. "Do you have any contact information for Bo?" 

 

"Of course. I have his home address and phone."

 

“What about emergency phone numbers or addresses? Family or friends we could contact? Names and addresses of his employees?"

 

"I'm not sure. Maybe. I'll have to check back at my office. It’s just a few blocks away, why don’t you come with me?” Once again, Zaki’s eyes swept over the office in disbelief and shook his head.

 

When they got to their vehicles, Calle felt a wave of anxiety at the thought of letting Zaki out of their sight, so he asked Zaki if he could ride along with him. It was a short drive, but they were in the city and had to stop at just about every stoplight they came to, so it took about ten minutes. Vegard spent most of that time having a silent melt down. As soon as they were out of their vehicles, Mikael and Ngozi followed Zaki into his building, and Vegard pulled Calle aside and began lecturing him in an intensely whispered yell. "What are you, a five year old? We’ve just met this guy! Don't get in a car with strangers!"

 

Calle laughed. "Vegard... I can handle myself. You’re not the only one with military training." Vegard didn’t respond, other than to shake his head and stare at the ground. Calle finally realized that Vegard was really upset, so he softened his tone. "I just felt like I should keep an eye on him. I'm sorry I worried you."

 

"It's just that...it can happen so fast. One minute we were driving through Enugu on our way to shoot a movie scene, and a couple of minutes later the kidnappers were about to kill Bård." Vegard’s eyes were brimming with tears.

 

"What?" Calle reached out and held Vegard’s arm.

 

"They pulled him away and made him kneel next to Jaja. The kidnapper shot Jaja in the head and then put his gun to Bård's head and pulled the trigger."

 

"Pulled the trigger?!" Calle's voice shook.

 

"It jammed. It was just stupid luck.”

 

Calle didn’t know what to say. It was a horrifying image.

 

"And I couldn't do anything but watch. I tried...I tried..."

 

A few tears escaped Vegard's eyes and Calle pulled him in for a hug. He had known that one of Bo’s crew members had been killed during the kidnapping. It was actually one of the reasons that Mikael and he hadn’t looked at Bo more suspiciously before. In retrospect, he couldn’t feel anything but stupid for that mistake. Bård had almost been killed... the day of the kidnapping. It made Calle feel physically ill.

 

A few minutes later, Zaki followed Mikael and Ngozi out of his office. They all walked over to where Calle and Vegard were waiting.

 

“Well. Thank you Zaki. Maybe this will help.” Mikael shook Zaki’s hand. In his other hand Calle could see a small piece of paper with some writing on it.

 

“You’re welcome. I wish I had more information for you. It’s so strange.” As he spoke Zaki shook hands with Ngozi, and then with Calle and Vegard as well. After a few moments of awkward silence, Zaki said, “I never did like the name of his production company.”

 

Mikael looked at him questioningly. “Why? What is it?”

 

“Chappal Waddi? It’s the name of the highest peak in Nigeria. It’s in Gashaka Gumti National Park on the border of Cameroon.”

 

“Ok. That’s not so bad.” He looked at Zaki for further explanation.

 

“No, it’s not, but....”, Zaki seemed hesitant to elaborate, "it's just that... the name..." Zaki looked to Ngozi for help. Soon the other eyes had turned to Ngozi as well.

 

Ngozi cleared his throat.  “Chappal Waddi … it means’ the mountain of death’.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The mood was sullen. Vegard was sitting on the couch silently as he had been since they’d gotten back to Ngozi’s. Calle was on the phone in the kitchen talking to Jan Erik at the embassy. They were hoping that satellite images of Bo’s movements might provide useful information. Mikael was hovering near Calle in case he wanted to consult about something, knowing full well that Calle could handle this phone call on his own. He honestly just didn’t know what else to do. Ngozi had been busying himself putting together a meal and taking care of a few things around the house.

 

When Calle got off the phone he looked discouraged.

 

“What happened?” Mikael kept his voice down, not sure if Calle wanted Vegard to hear.

 

“He said they were doing what they could. I’m not sure if he thought Bo's involvement was as big of a lead as we did. He didn’t say so, but I think they may have already known about Bo.”

 

Calle walked to the doorway and looked into the living room where Vegard was sitting. He sighed at the sight of his friend who was still staring straight ahead. Much as he wanted to protect Vegard, he knew that he needed to keep him informed. “I talked to the counselor at the embassy. I told him what we discovered.” Calle crossed the room and sat down next to Vegard. Vegard gave him no response.  “Did you hear me?”

 

Vegard slowly started nodding. “Yes. Thank you, Calle.”

 

“Do you want to lie down for a while? You’re still recovering. You’re supposed to be taking care of yourself.”

 

“I’m fine, Calle.”

 

Calle looked at Vegard with a worried expression and then glanced at Mikael. He really wasn’t sure what to do.

 

“Vegard. You’ve been through a lot. Calle’s right, you need to take care of yourself.” Mikael hoped that, by backing Calle up, Vegard would see that what they were saying was reasonable.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Mikael took a good look at Vegard. He looked exhausted. He still appeared to be in some pain from his injuries and it was obvious that he had lost weight. “You know, Vegard, Calle and I, and Ngozi, are doing everything we can to find Bård. Maybe you should go back to Norway to recover and let us take care of everything here.”

 

“What?” Vegard looked up and finally focused his eyes on Mikael.

 

“Your knee and your ribs need time to heal. And the doctor said that you were malnourished and …”

 

“Did you just say I should leave?! Calle, is that what you think?”

 

“Calm down Vegard.” Calle put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Calm down? There is _no fucking way_ I’m going anywhere without my brother! I’m _staying here!_ "

 

"I just meant for a week or two." Mikael was trying to defuse the situation, but he had no idea what to say.

 

"A week or two? _Fuck you!!_ ” Vegard stood up. “ _Fuck you!!!_ We don’t even know if he can _last_ another week or two, we need to find him _now_! _You_ go home if you want to.  I'm not _leaving_ here without _Bård!_ "

 

Grabbing his crutches, he hobbled down the hall to his room, slamming the door behind him. Mikael looked at Calle wide eyed. "I.. I didn't mean to say..." He fell silent. Maybe he had been thinking that there wasn't much hope left.

 

"This is a nightmare." Calle covered his face with his hand.

 

"I'll go apologise to him."

 

Calle shook his head. He was the one who should talk to Vegard. They were practically family. "No. I'll go talk to him."

 

"I'm so sorry." Mikael looked distraught.

 

As Calle passed Mikael, he patted him on the back and said quietly, “It’s going to be ok.” He continued down the hall and peaked into Vegard’s room without knocking. “May I come in?"

 

Vegard glanced up at him and nodded, whispering out, "Yeah." He was sitting on the bed, looking as if he were barely keeping it together.

 

"Can we talk?"

 

Vegard nodded.

 

Calle entered, closing the door behind himself. "Mikael feels terrible. He didn't mean to say that we wouldn't find... he just thought you were so tired... he really is on your side. He's been a good friend to me through all of this."

 

"I can't leave here without him, Calle. I won't! He'd never give up on me. I know that."

 

"No, you're right. He'd never give up on you." Calle sat down on the bed, next to Vegard. They sat together quietly for a minute, lost in their own thoughts.

 

"Calle, do you believe that he's still alive?"

 

There was an awkward pause as Calle considered the question. “I don’t know, Vegard. I hope so. I want to keep assuming that he is. We need to assume that. We need to push forward and find him quickly. But… it’s been a long time. And now... since the rescue...I don’t know. I’m worried.”

 

Calle’s words hung in the air. Vegard had wanted him to be honest. At least he had thought so, but it scared him to think that Calle might be losing hope. “What about the embassy, have they given up on him?”

 

“No. No one has given up on him. I haven’t given up on him, Vegard.”

 

Vegard looked into Calle’s eyes and then looked down and stared at his hands as he fiddled them nervously in his lap. After a few moments there was a soft rap on the door. It was Ngozi. “Calle! Tor from TVNorge is on the phone.”

 

Calle looked at Vegard. “Do you want to take the call?”

 

Vegard shook his head and said quietly, “Maybe you should.” Calle got up and left Vegard alone in his room. Visions of Bård, lying in a ditch, filled his head. He couldn’t be dead! He was not dead! Vegard held his head in his hands, barely able to breathe. He thought he should get up and join Calle in the kitchen and try to find out if there was any new information, but he couldn’t get past the dread that had filled his mind.

 

After a few minutes, Calle returned.

 

Vegard braced himself. “Was it bad news?”

 

“No, not exactly. TVNorge has been contacted by someone who says he has Bård.”

 

“Someone who ‘says’ he has Bård? What does that mean?”

 

Calle sat down next to Vegard again. “This call came from a different phone than the previous calls. The connection wasn’t clear… they’re not sure if that is because of where the call came from, or if it was an intentional garbling of the sound. The Oslo police have been monitoring TVNorge’s phone lines and the NIS will be analyzing the recording. They’re trying to verify whether it is legitimate or not.”

 

Vegard wasn’t even sure how to feel. Should he feel good that someone had called, that someone had his brother? “The kidnappers would have moved. It makes sense that they might be using a different phone.”  

 

“Yes. But, the rescue was big news around here and we didn’t manage to keep the news out of the papers that three of the hostages are still missing .”

 

That answered his question. The last thing they needed was to have random people claiming to have Bård. “Did this caller mention all three hostages?”

 

“No, not to TVNorge. But apparently a few minutes after TVNorge was contacted, they received word that the other hostages’ employer, in Germany, had been contacted as well.”

 

“Did the caller ask for anything?”

 

“No. He hung up too soon. They’re waiting for him to call back.”

 

Vegard nodded and stared at his hands. “Then, I guess, we just wait.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Gabriel. I have to go out.” Dayo was gathering up some items as he got ready to leave.  He had his own cell phone, as well as a few burner phones. There were some papers with handwritten notes on them and a couple of maps.

 

“You need more rest. You lost a lot of blood.” Gabriel was at the stove, making some lunch for them and their “guest”. He didn’t like to think of Bård by a more accurate label.

 

“I’ll rest when this is over. We need to make contact with the TV network that he works for and make our ransom demand. We don’t want to keep him here any longer than necessary.”

 

“You know who to contact?”

 

“Yes. I found the information in Big Bosi’s office after I brought Bård here.”

 

Gabriel looked up from the stove and caught Dayo’s eyes. “Are you going to have to go back to work?”

 

“Yes. Big Bosi isn’t really that far away. But I don’t have to go today. He knows that I was injured in the attack.”

 

“I hate that you have to go back. I hate that you got shot.”

 

“It’s not that bad, Gabriel. I think you did a good job of getting the bullet out and stitching me up. And, I was thinking, getting shot might sound like a good explanation for why I want to quit.”

 

“Oh. Well, then it was a _really_ good thing that you got shot. _Yay_!”

 

Dayo rolled his eyes. “Very funny. It’s all going to be fine, just take care of Bård and I’ll be back soon.”

 

* * *

 

Light was filtering through the yellow curtains making the bedroom look oddly cheerful. Now that Bård was feeling better, he was able to contemplate his situation. Not only had he been kidnapped, he’d been kidnapped twice without even being rescued once in between. He was beginning to think that the odds of being kidnapped in Nigeria were outrageously high. Served him right for not telling Vegard.

 

He tried to distract himself from his current situation by learning what he could about Dayo and his brother. The bed he was on was big enough for two and based on the photos and things on the walls, it was their parents’ bedroom. However, there was something about it that felt very empty. There wasn’t any of the small miscellany of life that you would expect to see on a dresser or nightstand. He was left with the impression that no one lived in this room anymore.

 

It made him a little sad. Gabriel couldn’t be older than sixteen, too young to have lost both parents already. He couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Dayo as well, but then when he thought more about Dayo it was hard to hold onto those charitable feelings. His first impression of Dayo had been completely colored by the fact that Dayo had tried to let him stay with Vegard, but the way Dayo had pushed him into the trunk and then bound and gagged him was not only inhumane, it seemed to come as second nature to him. Bård had the feeling that Dayo was capable of much worse.

 

So, it was sort of strange to watch Gabriel interact with Dayo. Partly because when Dayo talked to his little brother, Bård got a glimpse of a different side of the kidnapper. It was probably very close to the person that Dayo had been before he started working for Big Bosi. But mostly, he couldn't help noticing that Gabriel still seemed to look up to his brother, admire him in a way, even though it was obvious that he didn't approve of Dayo's "job".

 

It made him think of his own big brother. Vegard had always been the person he most looked up to, but at least his brother was deserving of that kind of admiration. He was smart and kind, he was talented in so many ways and yet, with all his successes, Vegard always seemed to be even more pleased to watch him succeed. Vegard never said that in so many words, but he didn’t have to, Bård had seen it in his eyes.

 

Now, when he thought about his pact with Vegard, the words “even if you haven’t seen me for a while, you have to keep going.” were the ones that most often ran through his mind. It had been such a long time now, but he reminded himself that Vegard hadn’t seen him for just as long and that he definitely wanted Vegard to keep going and not give up. Today, while thinking through his current situation, Bård had come to the conclusion that he probably was not going to get out of this alive. If that happened, he knew it would be hard on his brother, but Vegard was strong. He’d recover. He’d keep the family together. He’d move on.

 

Unless, of course, he was already dead. It was startling how quickly his thoughts could change direction. One minute he’d be worrying about Vegard’s condition, as if he knew for a fact that his brother was still alive, and the next minute he’d be thinking about what life would be like if he were released and had to go on alone. It was difficult to imagine. They were closer than any other brothers that he knew. Their lives were so intertwined. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could perform without Vegard, it was that he couldn’t imagine wanting to. Not a whole lifetime of being a solo act. Tears came to his eyes. He had been struggling against totally giving in to despair before being moved to this house, but now it felt so hopeless.

 

“Eh eh eh hemmmmm”

 

Gabriel was standing in the doorway, carrying a food tray. He looked really uncomfortable. Bård supposed that Gabriel was surprised to see him crying.

 

_You shouldn’t let them see you as weak._

 

He wondered if that piece of advice from his brother still held true. Gabriel wasn’t exactly a kidnapper. Did it matter what he thought?

 

“Are you ok?”

 

One of his quiet sobs turned into a small laugh at the absurdity of the question. If nothing else, this kid should know that he was not “ok”.

 

“We’re not going to hurt you.”

 

Bård shook his head. “It’s not that.”

 

Gabriel set the tray down on the the bed, and then sat down next to it. “What is it then?”

 

“I’m worried about my brother. I think he might be dead.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Dayo told me he was. He said Vegard was shot while trying to escape.”

 

Gabriel really seemed to be finding it difficult to absorb that information. Finally he whispered, “I’m sorry.” They sat in silence for a few seconds before Gabriel added, “I didn’t know that your brother had been kidnapped, too.”

 

Bård nodded. In that moment, it struck him that even though he had been tormented by Dayo’s declaration of Vegard’s death, up until now he’d been able to convince himself that his brother was still alive. But now, the idea that his brother was still alive felt more and more like a lie he was telling himself in order to get through the day. He didn't think he believed it anymore. Vegard was dead.

 

“Well, you can’t give up. Your family will be glad to see you when you’re released.”

 

Bård studied the young man’s face. Gabriel looked so innocent. Even younger, in a way, than some of the guards he’d seen that were probably his same age. Gabriel really didn’t understand the situation. “You’re not going to release me.”

 

“Yes we are. Dayo is making the ransom demand right now. It should be over soon.”

 

“Gabriel, think about it. I’ve seen your face and your home. Dayo would never let me live after that.”

 

“No. That’s not true. Dayo wouldn’t kill anyone.” Even as Gabriel said those words, Bård could see him working it out in his head. Of course Dayo had killed people before and of course he was going to kill Bård.

 

“I hope you’re right, Gabriel. Of course, I’d never do anything to put you in danger if he did release me.” His words sounded hollow and insincere and Bård really didn’t care. If he did get out, he would make sure that Dayo and anyone else that they could catch would never get out of jail for what they’d done to Vegard. That was really the only reason he could imagine to keep going if he were released.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is fiction, I feel somewhat free to play fast and loose with the facts. But I do research a few things so I just wanted to point out:
> 
> The lizard that distracts Vegard in the story is an actual lizard. If you look up Agama Agama on google you can find a picture of it. I guess that means it's from the genus agama and is the species agama (it has been a long time since I took biology.) There are a number of other agama species that are very colorful, but this one is known as the "common agama" and also the "red-headed rock agama" or "rainbow agama", so I figured it was, you know, common. Of course, all this is assuming that everything you read on the internet is correct. Uh.... yeah. Anyway, I read that the common agama could be found in Nigeria, and on another site I read that they could be found in sub-Saharan Africa (which is at least the southern 2/3 of Africa and, therefore, definitely includes Angola), but I never actually found anything online confirming that the common agama are found specifically in Angola. Well, now I'm just rambling. I realize that it's not really that important to the story and I can't say that I've ever particularly liked reptiles, but this one is kind of cute so I just wanted to share my knowledge (which I've already admitted is limited and is somewhat suspect, since one of my sources was Wikipedia.) 
> 
> Also, Chappal Waddi is an actual place, everything I wrote about it is true, including that it's name translates to "the mountain of death." When I saw that I couldn't resist. :D
> 
> I really appreciate your continued interest. <3 Thanks so much for your support!!


	20. Chapter 20

Sleep was becoming increasingly elusive for Calle. He was beginning to think of it more as a really fine concept, rather than an actual state of being. The only thing more frustrating to him than not being able to sleep, was lying awake in bed fuming about it. So after less than an hour of staring at the ceiling, Calle decided to get up. He soon discovered that Vegard was already awake, sitting in the same chair as the night before. Calle considered lecturing him on the necessity of sleep and its healing benefits, but felt it might sound a bit hypocritical at the moment, so he just sat down next to his friend hoping to at least keep him company. They talked together quietly, mostly avoiding the subject of the kidnapping in a fruitless effort to take their minds off of Bård, if only for a while.

 

It was barely dawn when Vegard finally fell asleep. Calle covered him with a blanket and slipped a pillow under his head and then went about taking every precaution to keep him from being disturbed. He intercepted Michael and Ngozi as soon as they came out of their rooms and ordered them to keep their voices down. He also requested that they not use the microwave as the beeping sounds it made were “entirely too loud.” He even raised an eyebrow at Michael when his toast popped up. As soon as they had assembled their breakfasts, Michael and Ngozi wordlessly decided that it might be best to grab their plates and go outside to eat.

 

That was a few hours ago. It was already 11:30 am and Vegard hadn't been disturbed once. Calle recognized that he was hovering over Vegard like a mother hen, but his friend was still recovering from his injuries and needed someone to watch out for him, so Calle had appointed himself. He’d never really had to do that in all the years they’d been friends. Vegard prided himself on being self-sufficient, even when he was sick.

 

Although, when Calle thought about it, Vegard wasn’t quite as self-sufficient as he liked to think. He wasn’t particularly good at taking care of himself when he was sick, usually preferring to bullheadedly keep working until he was about to drop. And to the outside observer, no one seemed to try too hard to intercede. Of course Bård always said something, “Go home, before you infect the rest of us.”, “Vegard, you’re nodding off again. Remind me, why are you here?”, “Stop coughing on me, that’s gross.”, but for the most part, he seemed to leave Vegard alone. What appeared to be only a casual interest, was actually Bård watching and waiting for the right moment to step in. He just seemed to know how to take care of his brother in a way that most people didn’t even notice, which happened to be the only way that Vegard would allow himself to be taken care of.  

 

Calle first became aware of this a few years ago when Vegard came down with the flu. It must have been the first year of the talk show. Vegard came in one morning looking like the proverbial death warmed over. He was wearing an extra sweater, but he still looked cold. His eyes were red and glassy and pinched together as if the light was too bright. He’d coughed into his scarf so many times that Calle thought he should throw it away, or better yet incinerate it. Nevertheless, the stubborn older half of Ylvis absolutely refused to go home.

 

Calle went out to lunch with some friends that day, but he found it difficult to keep up with the conversation, his mind was elsewhere. It bothered him that Bård wasn’t more concerned about his brother’s health.  He reminded himself that, being brothers, Bård and Vegard treated each other differently than they would their friends. It wasn’t exactly like they treated each other poorly, it was more that some of their reactions and responses to each other were a bit baffling to Calle…. and their co-workers...and probably the rest of humanity, if they were to have been included in the survey. Maybe that accounted for Bård’s behavior, but Calle couldn’t stop stewing about it.

 

When he returned from lunch, he made a beeline to Bård’s office and barged in, ready to let him have it. _Why haven’t you sent Vegard home? Can’t you see he’s really sick? How can you be such a shitty brother?_ Those were just a few of the pointed questions that were on the tip of his tongue. Upon entering the office he stopped in his tracks, surprised to find that the lights were off, except for a small desk lamp, and the windows had been shaded. Bård was over by the couch covering Vegard with a blanket. On the table next to the couch was a half-eaten container of chicken soup (and not from the cafe down the street, it was from the place that Vegard preferred, which was at least 5 km from the office.) On the desk he saw a bottle of pain reliever and some cough syrup, and a prescription bottle which upon closer inspection turned out to be an antiviral medicine. According information on the bottle, the medicine had been prescribed just that day, and bore the name of “Bård Ylvisåker”. As soon as Bård noticed him, standing next to the desk with the prescription bottle in his hand, he was escorted out and admonished to “leave Vegard alone and let him sleep”.

 

Calle smiled at the memory. There were times when Bård could almost match Vegard in the protective brother department. He let out a ragged sigh and quickly got out of his chair and away from Vegard. Tears were already running down his cheeks. He hurried into the kitchen and leaned his back against the wall. It had been so many weeks since the brothers had been kidnapped and almost as long since Vegard had seen Bård. What condition was the younger brother in? Was he even alive? How would Vegard handle it if...

 

No. He needed to stay positive. After all, they had just received a call from the kidnapper and soon they’d have a photo of Bård. Calle shook his head. How odd that receiving a call from a kidnapper could be considered “thinking on the bright side.” After a few big breaths and a little pep talk to himself Calle felt better. Vegard needed his support and right now that was about the only positive thing he could do for either brother. Calle muttered under his breath, “I’ll take care of him for a few more days, but that’s your job. You’d better get your ass back here soon… slacker!”  He wished Bård could actually hear him, but pretending to talk to him would have to do for now.

 

It was just after noon when the phone rang. Their friend at TVNorge had been up all night waiting for the kidnappers to call, so the conversation with Calle was short and to the point. TVNorge had been contacted again, the caller had made his demands. The first demand was monetary, 200,000,000 Nigerian naira, an amount that was equivalent to more than 8 million krone. The second demand had to do with timing.

 

“What is it? What have they found out?”  

 

Calle was surprised to see Vegard standing in the doorway. “They’ve been contacted again. The kidnappers made their demands.” He wanted to cushion the information somehow to make it less troubling. Then he realized that was absurd, they were way past “troubling”.

 

“Eight million krone? What did they pay when Lars and Anders were released?”

 

“It was much less. I think it was closer to one million krone, and that was supposed to be for the four of you.”

 

“I suppose it’s different now that they’ve lost most of their hostages and their headquarters. They have to start all over.”

 

“Yes. It’s likely that the rescue mission complicated our ability to gain Bård’s release. But, the  kidnappers have contacted us. They want to make a deal. That’s really… good news.” Calle made a face, unsure of how else he could have phrased that.

 

“So, what do we have to do? Do we need to come up with the money?”

 

“No, TVNorge is willing to pay. Honestly they’re eager to pay, they would like nothing more than to have you two back home. However the consultants they’re working with, the hostage negotiators, have insisted that they need to demand a photo of Bård, proof that he’s still… that he’s… that they have him, before they pay.”

 

Vegard nodded. “It’s ok, Calle. You can say it. Proof of life.”

 

“Yes, and proof of possession.”

 

“You said demands. What else do they want?”

 

Calle took a deep breath and steadied himself. “They want payment by tomorrow at midnight.”

 

“Or….?”

 

“Or, they kill Bård.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day had been dragging by more slowly than usual for Bård, partly because Gabriel hadn’t really spoken to him since the morning meal. It seemed that their discussion at breakfast had upset him. Gabriel had still allowed him to take a shower and had bandaged the wound on his foot. He’d even brought Bård a small lunch, as he always did. However, he had uttered as few words as possible and refused to make eye contact.

 

At first, Bård thought it might be a good sign. Gabriel was finally thinking about what Dayo did when he “went to work”, and it bothered him. By lunchtime though, he began wondering if perhaps the opposite was true. Maybe he had offended Gabriel by suggesting that Dayo would never let him go free.

 

Just then, Gabriel came in to retrieve the lunch tray.

 

“Thank you for the food.”

 

Gabriel gave him a brisk nod and picked up the tray.

 

He had to try to engage Gabriel. “I’m sorry I’m so much extra work for you.”

 

Gabriel looked at him for half a second and shrugged his shoulders.  

 

Ugh?? Why had he said that? He might as well have said, “Sorry my being your hostage is such a hassle.” He wanted to add something, to salvage this stupid conversation, but his mind was a blank. Before he could think of anything reasonable to say, Gabriel had turned around and left without a word.

 

Well, that was good. At least he knew where he stood. He _had_ upset Gabriel - the one person who could actually help him, who was a healer not a kidnapper, who was familiar with Enugu and could be a guide - that was the person he had decided to piss off today. He fell back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

 

It was odd, but he honestly didn’t care that Gabriel hated him. What difference did it make anyway? His thoughts had vacillated, so often throughout this ordeal, between wanting his freedom and wanting to die, but now he didn’t feel so conflicted. It was a good thing that Gabriel hated him. It made things easier. No one would help him. He’d never make it out alive. It was almost a relief, he didn’t have to keep fighting to survive anymore.

 

That feeling of relief lasted all of three seconds before he remembered his promise to his brother and was struck by a wave of guilt. Was he still bound to that promise? Surely he wasn’t, not now when he knew of his brother’s fate. The thought of going home, knowing that he was responsible for his brother’s death, was too much to bear. Vegard loved him, that promise wasn’t meant to become a sentence to a lifetime filled with regret.

 

_You can’t give up… you have to promise me… because I’m going to be really pissed off at you when I get out, if you’re not there._

 

Bård could still imagine Vegard's voice saying those words.

 

_You have to be there when I get out._

 

Vegard had gotten so emotional about it, his brother had almost been pleading with him to meet him at the end.

 

_...when I get out…_

 

 _When_ he got out? Had Vegard really assumed that he was going to make it out alive? He was aware of the risks, much more than Bård had been at the time, and yet he made it sound as if he would definitely be there. And by saying that, he had made it impossible for Bård to picture anything other than his brother making it out alive and waiting for him, as if he were standing at the finish line ready to catch him in his arms. Of course, that had probably been his intent. Vegard had wanted him to keep trying, regardless of his own fate. Vegard would never have been ok with him giving up. Whether he liked it or not, giving up now _would_ mean breaking the last promise he’d made to his brother.

 

So, it was decided. He had to keep his promise to Vegard. Bård wasn’t particularly happy with the decision, but he knew that Vegard would have been, and that made it a little easier.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Vegard’s head was throbbing. Calle had gone back into the kitchen a few minutes ago, to take yet another call from TVNorge. Every time the phone rang his stomach seemed to tie into a new knot. Vegard leaned his head back and tried to relax. The kidnapper had made his demands. Soon they’d pay the ransom and Bård would be released. He had to believe that everything would go smoothly.

 

“Vegard. That was TVNorge.”

 

He opened his eyes. “I know, I heard Ngozi …” As his eyes focused, he saw that Calle looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”

 

“They received another call.” His voice waivered. Taking a deep breath he tried to pull himself together. “From the kidnapper. Some kidnapper. I mean another kidnapper. Someone who says they have Bård.”

 

“Someone else?” It took a minute to understand what Calle was saying. How could someone else have Bård? “What does that mean?”

 

“Well, for now we wait. The hostage negotiators told him that they would need proof of life, but he hung up before responding.”

 

“He hung up?”

 

“They assured me that it wasn’t necessarily a bad sign. The kidnappers know how long they can talk before their location can be traced so they time their calls. When they reach their cutoff time they hang up, no matter where they are in the conversation.”

 

“Another kidnapper. How do we even know who to deal with?”

 

“Only one of them has Bård right now. Only one of them can send us a photo, a current photo.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

He needed an escape plan. If it was true that Dayo was in the process of asking for a ransom, he would need to work fast. The handcuffs were the only thing between him and freedom. Dayo was out of the house right now. Gabriel had one of Dayo’s guns, but it seemed unlikely that the 16-year-old had ever fired a gun, and even less likely that he would be able to bring himself to shoot someone.

 

Bård pondered his situation a bit more. His foot was still painful, but thanks to Gabriel he could put some weight on it now. Even so, he’d have a difficult time running very far. And from what he’d been able to see through the windows, this house was situated somewhere outside of Enugu. He had no idea which way he should head if he were to escape.

 

Despite those difficulties, there had to be a way. Could he go to another house for help? No, that probably wasn’t a good idea. There was no reason to believe that Dayo lived in some rural kidnappers’ commune, but he really didn’t know who he could trust. For now, he’d have to assume that he should trust no one.

 

He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. Vegard would have been better at this. He would already have taken note of any flaws in their security, and patterns in their movements. He would have been keeping an eye out for possible weapons - a vase, a heavy lamp, a …. what?  Bård was at a loss. He didn’t even know what would make a good weapon, no wonder he hadn’t already come up with an escape plan. Maybe Vegard would already have kept some objects hidden in preparation. Should have have tried to keep a bowl from one of his meals to throw at his captors or should he have hidden a fork under the mattress?

 

That was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to gain his freedom by throwing pottery and wielding flatware. Vegard had escaped from Big Bosi where security was much higher and there were multiple guards. How was it that he couldn’t think of a single escape plan when his only guard was a mild-mannered 16 year old? He needed to think more like Vegard.

 

Bård took a moment and tried to imagine that he was Vegard. What would he do? Where would he begin? At first he drew a blank, but he kept trying and his mind began to wander. He thought about his brother, his military training. How would he approach this? Was there something in all that advice that Vegard gave him, before they were separated, that would help him now?  As he thought more about Vegard, he began to picture him. He didn’t get much further than Vegard’s warm brown eyes before he knew he needed to try something else. If he thought about his brother much longer he’d be a weeping mess. That would have to wait.

 

He needed to pull himself together. That was one thing he did know, Vegard wouldn’t let himself fall apart. He’d focus on the problem until he’d solved it. Now… if he were Vegard, he wouldn’t throw an escape plan together willy nilly. He didn’t have a lot of time, but he did need to start paying attention, and check out the house when Gabriel escorted him to the bathroom. He needed to find out as much as he could, at least for the rest of the day, while keeping an eye out for any opportunities.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Vegard knew he was too upset to think clearly, so Calle continued to be the contact for TVNorge and the embassy. It was the best choice, but it was extremely frustrating to sit and do nothing. Maybe that was why he had completely freaked out half an hour ago. Vegard winced at the memory. Calle was his unfortunate victim, the one who had gotten caught in the crosshairs through no fault of his own. Even now he couldn’t say exactly what pushed him over the edge, other than the overall sense of panic he was feeling due to not knowing Bård’s whereabouts.

 

After his meltdown, Vegard wouldn’t have blamed Calle if he’d just walked away, but he didn’t. Calle kept talking to him until he’d managed to calm down. Then he had insisted that Vegard sit down while he made him a cup of tea.

 

Vegard had been sitting with his tea for a while now, and he did feel a little more relaxed, but most of what he was feeling was remorse. How could he have said those things, to Calle of all people?

 

“Need a refill on that tea?”

 

There was no indication of any hard feelings on his friends face. “No thanks, Calle.” That almost made him feel worse. “I’m really sorry about earlier.”

 

“Stop it. It’s ok.”

 

“It’s not ok.”

 

Calle sat down on the footstool and patted his hand reassuringly. “It is. We have a bit of history, you and I. Something like that isn’t going to affect us at all. Besides, you have every reason to let off some steam.”

 

Vegard felt a weight lift off of his chest. Certainly, that was something that he already knew about their friendship, but he must have needed to hear it.  

 

“I think I should explain what the last couple phone calls have been about… if you feel up to it.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll try to keep my head. Have they gotten another call?”

 

“No, not since the second kidnapper made his ransom demand. I don’t think we expect to hear from either of them again until we’ve received the proof of life. That’s what Jan Erik and I were just discussing. Since TVNorge is, obviously, in Norway and the embassy is in Abuja, the kidnappers will deliver the photos directly to us.”

 

“Us? Here?”

 

“Yes. They like to deliver a physical copy, rather than send one through the computer. It makes it easier for them to remain hidden in the shadows.”

 

“Can’t we just follow them back to where they’re holding Bård?”

 

“No, they have ways around that. Jan Erik said that often the packages go through three or four people before they are delivered. The kidnappers have a network of people outside of their organization, they’ll pay one of them to deliver the package to a courier.  It will be transferred to a second and possibly a third courier before the package is delivered to us.”

 

“But can’t the police trace it back?”

 

“Not usually. Once it’s clear why questions are being asked, everyone clams up. People are too afraid to get involved. They don’t want to endanger their families.”

 

“It sounds so hopeless.”

 

“No. It’s not. We’ll get the proof of life and make the payment. Bård will be released. It will all be over.”

 

“Do you believe that, Calle?”

 

“I do. We just have to hang on a little longer, ok?”

 

“Ok.” Vegard’s voice caught in his throat.

 

Calle reached over and gently rubbed Vegard’s arm and then, realizing that Vegard needed some time alone, stood up and went back to the kitchen.

  
Vegard wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. But then he took a shaky breath and thought about his brother. Bård was the one who was still being held hostage, the one whose life was in danger, waiting was the easy part. If only he could talk to Bård, tell him it was going to be ok, assure him that they were doing everything they could to get him released.  Against all logic, he quietly spoke to him anyway, “Stay strong, Bård. Please, just stay strong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying with this story! I'm kind of excited to be back in this world again. 
> 
> I really appreciate your kudos and comments! You guys are great!!


	21. Chapter 21

When it came time for the evening meal, Gabriel finally broke his silence. “Here’s your food. I hope you’ll try to eat something.”

Bård had been working to come up with an escape plan all afternoon, without much luck. He’d hadn’t even decided what to say if Gabriel started talking to him again, but people like to talk about themselves, so he decided to start there. “I’ve been wanting to ask you… I mean, if you don’t mind... what happened to your parents?”

Gabriel looked a little surprised, confirming what Bård had suspected. “My dad died four years ago, in a car crash. My mom got sick about ten months ago.” Gabriel turned away, and for a moment Bård thought that he was going to leave, but instead he grabbed a chair and pulled it over by the bed. He seemed to be struggling to control his emotions and for a couple of minutes neither of them spoke. Then the story began to spill out of Gabriel as if he had been waiting for someone to talk to. “It happened so fast. One day Dayo told me that she had cancer. Just like that. No explanation. No softening the blow. He just said, ‘Mom has cancer and she’s going to die.’ How was I supposed to respond to that? I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Our mom was healthy, at least she had been. I mean, I knew she’d been feeling sick for a couple of weeks, but I thought it was the flu or something. How could she have cancer?”

Gabriel shook his head and was fighting to hold back his tears. “It was an awful time. I still thought she was going to get better. I guess I didn’t want to believe what Dayo had said. I took care of her everyday, I even stopped going to school for a while so that I could be with her, but it wasn’t enough. I could see that she was getting worse day by day.”

“Dayo sort of abandoned us. He started working all the time, only coming home very late at night and leaving as early as possible in the morning. I don’t know what he was thinking. I needed him. Our mom needed him.” Gabriel shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He wasn’t even home when she died.”

His voice broke and he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. “When I told Dayo that she was gone, he seemed relieved. I think he was kind of glad that he wouldn’t have to watch her dying anymore. I was so angry with him for that.” His voice trailed off and he buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly.

When Gabriel had somewhat pulled himself together, he took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. Then he stood up and began pacing around the room as he continued his story. “I was so angry at him for abandoning us. So angry that he had left me to deal with her illness alone. And I was angry for how he had treated our mother. She kept asking for him. I kept having to tell her that he was at work, over and over. She acted like she understood, but I know it made her sad.”

 

“I started to blame him for her death. I felt like things might have turned out differently if he had helped me take care of her.” Gabriel stood by the dresser and picked up a framed photo that Bård assumed was of his father and mother. They were both smiling broadly and hugging each other like they might never let go. They were the very definition of young and in love. Gabriel gently placed a finger on the image of his mother, and for a moment he seemed to be somewhere else, remembering happier times.

After carefully setting the photo back onto the dresser, he resumed his pacing. “I thought about running away after that. I wanted to get away from the memories. And I wanted to get away from Dayo. Two weeks after the funeral, I gathered together the things I was going to take with me and packed them into a backpack and a small bag. I had asked a friend if his family would let me live with them for a while. I was anxious to get on with it, and it was only a couple of days before he got back to me. His family had agreed to take me in.”

Tears were running down Gabriel’s face again. He tried to brush them away a few times, but as they kept coming he seemed to become resigned to them. “So, I decided that I would leave that evening. Dayo was working late again, so I had plenty of time to put the rest of my things together. I wrote him a short note and l started walking across town. It was a long walk, but I didn’t want to take the bus, I sort of wanted to be alone. For weeks I had felt nothing but anger. It had consumed me. But now as I walked away from my home, I only felt sad. So very sad. I couldn’t understand why, I had been so sure that this would make me happy. I sat down on the side of the road to think.”

Gabriel stopped in front of the window and looked out. Bård watched him as he tried to stop crying. When his breathing evened out and he’d wiped his eyes, he turned back around to face Bård. “I realized that I didn’t really want to leave, I wanted to hurt Dayo. I wanted to punish him. I wanted him to feel as abandoned as I had felt. But it only made me feel sad.”

“So I decided to go home. Dayo was all I had left and I still loved him, I would have to forgive him. He’s my family, you know?”

Bård nodded. His throat felt tight but he managed to say, “I do.”

“I was sure I’d get back home before he did, I was only gone a couple of hours. For some reason he got off work early that day. He found my note before I made it back home. When I walked into the house he was sitting at the kitchen table sobbing. I’ve never been hugged as tightly as he hugged me that evening.” Gabriel’s eyes were still wet but he started giggling. “I told him, ‘I’ve only been gone 20 minutes and you’re acting like I’ve been gone for 20 years!’ That sort of made him stop crying.”

Gabriel returned to the chair and sat down again next to Bård. Bård wasn’t sure what to say. It was a sad story. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel reached up and wiped his eyes again.

Gabriel had really opened up to him. Maybe now would be a good time to try to make Gabriel think about what Dayo was doing, and about his own role in this. He began carefully. “So, Dayo started supporting your family after your dad was gone?”

“Yeah. He dropped out of school to go work.”

“So... he’s been there for four years now. Is that what he...  wants to do?” It felt like an absurd question, but he sort of wanted to know. Did Dayo had any conscience at all?

“Well, I don't want that. It's too dangerous. Dayo doesn't complain about it, but I know he wants to get out. Working for Big Bosi... he has to do things… things he wouldn't normally do.... he’s not that kind of person.”

“Really?” Bård made an effort to keep the sarcasm that was in his head, out of his voice. “What kind of a person is he?”

“He’s very smart. Before he had to quit school, he always had the highest grades in his class. He likes to design cars, he draws them all the time. I think when he goes back to school he’ll study that. And he looks out for me. He’s the best person I know.”

Gabriel sounded completely sincere. His opinion was apparently unaffected by the fact that his brother was a criminal. The idea that Dayo was the best person Gabriel knew, irritated Bård. “He’s the best person you know? My big brother is the best person I know.” Vegard’s fate struck him again, as painfully as the first time he heard it. “I mean... he was, he was the best person I’ve ever known. I always looked up to him.”

“Yeah. So you know what I mean.” Gabriel was smiling at him.

Gabriel’s smile and his words shocked Bård. How could Gabriel compare Dayo to Vegard? It was ridiculous. It was offensive. “Well… not really. My brother would _never_ have kidnapped people.”

Gabriel’s smile fell. He looked down at his lap before answering. “He has good reasons for that. He wanted me to stay in school. He had to help my mom support us, so he took that crummy job.”

It was difficult to believe that Gabriel was defending Dayo’s actions. Even so, Bård knew that he should let it slide. He needed to focus on getting out. But his emotions got the better of him. “Still, Vegard would _never_ have done something like _that._ ”

“Oh, _really?_ ” The remark seemed to set Gabriel off. “So, if he’d had to choose between doing something unpleasant to support you or making you go to work at the age of twelve to help with the bills, what would he have done?”

Common sense told him to shut up. He could almost hear his brother’s voice in his head, _“Shut up. Shut up! Shut Up!!”_ Nonetheless, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I don’t know, but he wouldn’t have _kidnapped_ people.”

Gabriel became indignant. “No, really, I’d like to know. If Dayo had taken a different job, one that someone would hire a sixteen-year-old to do, I probably would have had to drop out of school. He wouldn’t have been able to support us with a job like that, even with our mom’s help. And even if I’d gotten a job, we probably would have ended up _living on the street. Is that what your brother would have done?”_

“No! But he wouldn’t have kidnapped people and locked them up! He wouldn’t have stood by while those people were killed! He was smart and he would have worked hard to find a solution! And I _know he NEVER would have become a CRIMINAL, OR let us live ON THE STREET!!_ ” Despite his better judgement, he was shouting at Gabriel.

_“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!!”_ Gabriel's words seemed to hang in the air as he and Bård shot daggers at each other with their eyes.

He did know! He knew Vegard so well. His brother was better than that. If they’d been in that situation Vegard would have gone to great lengths to provide for their family, but he would never have stooped to hurting people. He really _was_ the best person Bård had ever met. His vision blurred. He needed to change the subject, he couldn’t think about Vegard right now.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this. You’re very smart. And, the way you took care of me, it was like you were already a doctor. You have taken care of me so well ever since Dayo brought me here. This isn’t you, Gabriel. This isn’t you to hold people captive. I know it’s not.”

His words seemed to affect Gabriel. Bård caught a glimpse of shame in Gabriel’s eyes before he looked away. Now Bård realized that he shouldn’t have said anything bad about Dayo. Gabriel was going to defend his brother no matter what, but the teenager did feel guilty about his own part in this.

Gabriel was staring into his lap, thinking. Eventually, he looked up and straight into Bård’s eyes. The struggle that was going on inside of the teenager was written all over his face. Gabriel wanted to remain loyal to Dayo and yet he was smart enough to see the truth. In the end, however, loyalty won out. “We need to do this. We need the money, so he can stop working for that man. I don’t want _my_ brother to die.”

And with that Gabriel got up and left Bård alone with his food. Bård wouldn’t have been able to continue anyway, the statement ‘I don’t want my brother to die’ had pierced him to the core.

Maybe if he’d been as protective of Vegard as Gabriel was of Dayo... maybe if he hadn’t been so selfish and shortsighted… maybe Vegard would be safe and sitting in their office in Oslo. And if he hadn’t told Dayo that Vegard was his brother... if he had just kept quiet…. he would have been the one that was moved… and maybe he would have been the one that was shot trying to escape… and just maybe Vegard would be the one sitting there… alive

.

* * *

Dayo walked slowly up to his house. He’d had a long day and he wasn’t sure how many more days it would be before he was done. Hopefully he was near the end of this business. The next step would be to send a photo, proof positive that that Bård was alive and in his possession. With any luck, once Bård’s employer received the photo, the ransom money would be sent right away. Dayo entered the small kitchen quietly. It was past midnight and he didn’t want to wake up his brother.

“Where have you been?”

The voice came from out of the darkness, startling Dayo slightly. “Why are you sitting here with the lights off? You scared me.”

“I wasn’t trying to scare you, I was just waiting for you. Besides, you’re the big strong kidnapper, you’re not afraid of voices in the dark, are you?”

“Very funny.” Dayo closed the door and set down his things, including what was now yesterday’s newspaper. Letting out a tired sigh he reached up and turned on the light above the stove. “How is he? Did he eat? We need to send them a picture so that they know he is alive, a proof of life, so I hope he looks alright.”

In the dim light of the stove light Gabriel took in the sight of his brother. Dayo looked exhausted. “He’s doing ok.” Gabriel weighed whether he wanted to start a conversation with him right now or not, but he’d already waited for hours, he didn’t think he could wait until morning. “He told me…he told me that his brother is dead.”

Dayo was at the sink, washing his hands and face, his back was to his brother and he took his time so that he could think of what to say.

“Is it true? Did they kill his brother?”

Of course, his original intention had been to tell Bård the truth about Vegard right away. That lie had been one of the cruelest orders he’d ever had to carry out for Big Bosi and watching it’s affect on the younger brother, watching him grieve, had been difficult for Dayo. However, things didn’t quite go to plan, he hadn't counted on Bård getting heatstroke. And while Dayo did regret that unforeseen hitch in his plan, it had given him a few days to rethink his strategy.

“Dayo, did you hear me?”

Ever since being told of the death of his brother, Bård had become quite passive. If he were to find out that Vegard was alive, he might not be so easy to control. Dayo was already concerned about having to leave Gabriel alone with Bård for long periods of time, however he knew that he would have to do that in order to carry out the rest of his plan, so he had decided not to tell Bård that his brother was alive.  

“Yes. I heard you." If he told Gabriel the truth, he was afraid his brother would want to tell Bård right away. It would be hard to stop him. The best way to keep up the lie, was to keep the truth to himself.  "I was just thinking of what to say.”

“Just tell me the truth.”

“Of course, always the truth with you.” Dayo turned around to face Gabriel and dried his hands.

Gabriel’s watchful eyes were making him uncomfortable. He felt exposed and alone. Once again he felt like he was the one left holding the bag, the one who had to deal with everything that was unpleasant. He leaned against the counter and ran his hands through his hair nervously before he began.

“Bård’s brother had been moved to a different location, outside of town. One night he managed to escape. The alarm sounded and a massive search began.”

The debate over whether to tell Gabriel the truth continued in his head. The fact that Vegard was still alive was a good thing, Gabriel would like to hear that. Maybe if he explained the importance of keeping it a secret, his little brother would hold his tongue.

“There were a number of search vehicles and lots of guards . Eventually we found him, out in the middle of nowhere.”

But the most important thing right now, was to make sure that this kidnapping went smoothly. He couldn’t afford to take any chances. Once this was over, he wouldn’t have to lie anymore.

“And…?”

“And….then he was shot. Big Bosi doesn’t allow prisoners to live once they’ve tried to escape.” Dayo was rather pleased with himself for managing to cast the blame solely on to Big Bosi, right where he believed it belonged.

He waited for a response, but there was none. Gabriel was quiet. Dayo let out a long breath and began to relax. His brother seemed to be satisfied. Maybe they could drop the subject, at least for this evening. All he wanted to do was find something to eat and sit quietly for a while. He opened their small refrigerator and found enough in the sparsely stocked space to piece together a meal. When this was over, when they got paid, he wouldn’t have to worry about putting food on their table. They would have a whole new life. Dayo brought his plate over to the table and sat across from Gabriel. It wasn't unusual for his little brother to keep him company while he ate a late dinner after work. Sometimes they didn't talk at all, just taking comfort in each other's company. This seemed to be one of those evenings and Dayo was grateful, both for the company and the quiet.

However, Dayo was mistaken in thinking that Gabriel’s silence was a sign of being too tired to talk. In truth, his brother’s mind was simply preoccupied with another question. And even though  Dayo was tired, his brother was too concerned to wait any longer.

“Are you going to kill Bård?”

The whispered question caught Dayo’s attention. He had to run the words through his head a second time just to make sense of them. “Kill him?”

Suddenly his heart was pounding. He felt as if his two worlds were beginning to collide. That was something that he had worked very hard to avoid. “Why would I kill him? Then I couldn’t collect a ransom.”

He had only planned to “detain” Bård for a little while, not to hurt him. In his mind the money was more of a fee for his services than a ransom. Regretfully, the rescue of Vegard and the other hostages had changed the situation and, out of necessity, his plans had needed to change as well.  

“No, after the ransom is paid.”

Big Bosi was livid about losing all those hostages and his paranoia was now at an all time high. If he got any hint that it was Dayo who had taken Bård… it would be bad. Dayo didn’t know what Big Bosi would do, but he certainly knew what his boss was capable of, and it would be bad, it would be very bad. “Where would you get an idea like that?"

“Bård said that you wouldn’t release him after the ransom is paid."

It had been his preference to keep Gabriel insulated from the realities of his job. He had wanted to preserve his little brother’s childhood as much as he could. So, he could hardly blame Gabriel for not understanding the situation. “Of course not! I don’t know why he would think that.”

“He was afraid that... I don’t know. I guess he was just afraid.”

Honestly, it was still his preference to keep his little brother insulated from the truth, especially now, when Dayo was so close to getting away from that life. The truth was that there was no way around it, he was going to have to kill Bård. He reminded himself again that it wasn’t his fault, the situation had changed, it was completely out of his control. But he didn’t think that his little brother would ever understand it that way. Gabriel would hate the idea of killing anyone, and even more so someone that he had taken care of so devotedly. “I told you, once we get the ransom, we’ll set him free.”  

“Ok. Good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Again Gabriel fell silent, and Dayo went back to eating. Gabriel’s question about Bård had upset him to the point that his food seemed to have lost all  flavor. Wordlessly, Dayo finished his meal, his anger increasing with every bite.

This wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t going to endanger himself and his brother just to save some rich TV star. He didn’t owe Bård anything, especially not after he said those things to his little brother. What was Bård trying to accomplish by saying that? With only a few words, Bård had managed to complicate his life immensely.  

Now that a seed of doubt had been planted in Gabriel’s head, he was going to have to come up with a very good reason why his little brother wouldn’t be able to come along when he “released” Bård. And what would he do if Gabriel insisted on coming despite whatever excuses he was able to manufacture? Force Gabriel to stay home? Handcuff _him_ to the bed? Or, would he bring his brother along and let him watch as he disposed of Bård?   _Fuck! Fuck!_

_“Fuck!”_ Dayo slammed a clenched fist on the table.

Gabriel jumped. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dayo hadn’t meant to do that. “Nothing. Nothings wrong.” He tried to keep his voice down, but he sounded more like a snarling predator than an older brother. He stood up from the table, pushing his chair back loudly. The sooner this whole thing was over and done with the better. “I’m just going to take his picture now. Why wait until morning?”

“You’re going to wake him?”

“Yes! He’s not our guest, he’s our hostage!” Dayo’s anger continued to coat his voice and he could see that he was frightening his brother, so he did his best to reassure him. “He wants this to be over as soon as possible too, you know.”

Dayo walked briskly to Bård’s room. He felt some comfort in the fact that he was finally taking the photo, it was always one of the last things they did before receiving the ransom, so it meant that the end was near. He pushed the door open and switched on the overhead light.  

“Dayo! Don't wake him up like that.”

“Gabriel, I'm tired. I'm going to take his picture and go to sleep.” He reached down and shook Bård's shoulder roughly. “Wake up! I need you awake for this photo.”

“Huh?” Waking up so suddenly, with the lights shining in his eyes, was disorienting.

“Sit up!” Dayo grabbed Bård's arm and pulled him roughly to sitting.

“Don’t hurt him!” Gabriel tugged at Dayo’s shirt, trying to get his attention.

“I’m not! Just let me get this done!” Dayo turned and wrenched his sleeve out of his little brother’s grasp.

Bård supposed that he should be feeling fearful, but in his still drowsy state he felt somewhat detached from what was going on around him. He noticed that Dayo was being much rougher with him than he ever had been and he was being uncharacteristically sharp with his brother as well.

“I forgot the newspaper in the kitchen. Go get it!”

It made him wonder if Dayo was trying to get himself ready to finish him off. He had no idea how someone would go about killing another person, but it seemed like it would be important to feel detached from your victim.

Gabriel was still standing at the end of the bed.

_“I said get it!”_

Wide eyed and looking a little scared, Gabriel quickly turned and exited the room.

Dayo immediately bent down and got in Bård’s face. “You’ve got a big mouth, you know that?”

“Wh - what?” Bård heard the venom in Dayo’s words and tried to imagine what he was talking about.

“Don’t talk to Gabriel anymore.” Dayo slapped him hard across the face. “About anything.” Dayo slapped him again. “Do you hear me?”

Before Bård could process what had just happened, Gabriel came back with the newspaper and Dayo shoved it into his hands.

“Alright, now hold it up!  I want the headline to be visible.” Dayo took a photo. “They have to be able to see it’s today’s paper. Move your hand!!"

Bård tried to react. _Move my hand. Move my hand._ He turned the newspaper slightly, so that he could see it. He didn’t notice Dayo’s hand before it made contact with his head. This time it was no slap, the blow had been made by a fist and landed near his eye.

“Dayo! Dayo stop it!”

Gabriel ran over to Bård's side just as Dayo hit him again, this time in the mouth. Gabriel reached down and grabbed the newspaper which had fallen to the floor and then place it into Bård’s hands, adjusting it’s placement so that everything important was visible.

Bård felt a little dizzy and he wasn’t sure if he was looking at the camera or not.

Dayo took a photo.  “Keep your eyes open, I don't want there to be any doubt.”  

After he’d taken three more photos Dayo approached him again. Bård closed his eyes and prepared for another strike. Instead he felt heat of another warm body on his skin as Dayo leaned in, even closer than before. Dayo was so close that Bård could feel the warmth of his breath as he heard his threatening whisper, “Remember what I said! Keep your mouth shut!!” And just as quickly Dayo pulled away from him, ripping the newspaper out of his hands.

 

Dayo walked toward the door and spoke to Bård out loud, so that Gabriel could hear him as well. “Ok that's it. Might as well get your beauty sleep.” Then he walked out, turning off the light switch as he exited.

Alone in the dark, Bård listened to Dayo's footsteps as he walked away down the hall. He ran through the recent series of events which he was having a hard time understanding. Where had that come from?

"Are you ok?"

The whisper came from just inside his doorway, and although he knew it was Gabriel’s voice, it sounded odd and shaky. "Umm... yeah.  I guess." Not surprisingly, his own voice sounded odd and shaky too.

“Gabriel! Come on!” The shout, from the other end of the hall, sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

Gabriel whispered to him one more time, “I'll check on you later,” and then he hurried out of the room.

And then Bård was left alone, with nothing but his thoughts for company in the dark and quiet room.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh. Another chapter, within a week. I am so (overly) proud of myself. :) You gotta take the wins where you can get them. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this. I'm already working on the next chapter. I know you'd probably like Bård to hurry up and get out already (I am taking the suggestion of Bård hopping to freedom under advisement.) but Dayo's gotta at least try to collect a ransom. Stupid Dayo! We should probably blame him for how long this is taking, I know I am. Of course, time would probably have to have slowed down to a crawl for Vegard and the others by this point, so maybe this slow pace can serve to illustrate that experience. You're welcome.
> 
> What? You didn't want that? Oh...... sorry. 
> 
> Thanks for putting up with me. Truly. :D


	22. Chapter 22

Gabriel woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. He had witnessed another side to Dayo last night, one that conflicted with everything he thought he knew about his brother. It frightened him to think of what _that_ person might be capable of doing.

 

He got out of bed and, on his way to the kitchen, decided to look in on Bård. The door creaked as he slowly swung it open. Gabriel stopped in his tracks and stood perfectly still, as if being silent now could erase the noise from a moment ago. He watched silently as Bård slept. The light haired man was on his side, facing away from the door, and didn’t move a muscle.

 

Gabriel snuck up to the bed and leaned over their sleeping “guest”. There was some swelling near his eye that had changed colors overnight. It was now various shades of black and blue. He should have gotten Bård some ice for his face last night. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Ice would still help that bruise, but Bård seemed to be sleeping comfortably, it could wait until he woke up.  

 

As Gabriel exited the room, he could hear his brother clanking around in the kitchen. A familiar scent was beginning to fill the small house. If he knew his brother at all, Dayo was making breakfast for him as an apology for last night.

 

He stopped in the kitchen doorway and watched his brother as he was cooking. Dayo was dancing and singing along with the radio, occasionally pausing to stir the pot. The person he saw in front of him, now that was his big brother. Happy go lucky, a little goofy and not at all frightening. He was relieved to see that the Dayo he had seen last night was gone.

 

"Good morning, Dayo."

 

"Ahhhhh!" Dayo spun around at the sound of his voice. "Gabriel! Good morning. I didn't hear you get up."

 

"I don’t imagine you could hear much of anything over your own singing." Gabriel was laughing.

 

A sheepish grin crossed Dayo's face. "What can I say, I like to sing. You're lucky I don't charge you for the privilege of listening."

 

"Yeah, well let me know when you start selling tickets. I'm going to be busy that day."

 

Dayo smirked and pointed the mixing spoon toward Gabriel’s spot at the table. “Sit down. Sit down. I made your favorite breakfast.”

 

“Thanks. It smells wonderful.”

 

Dayo filled a plate and set it in front of his little brother, and then did the same for himself and sat down. “How’s it taste?”

 

“Perfect. Just the way Mom used to make it.”

 

Dayo smiled at the compliment.

 

They fell into silence, completely focused on their food. When Gabriel was just about full, his concerns about last night came back to him. He wanted to say something, but it took him a while to work up the courage. As he scraped the last bits of food off of his plate, he knew that he couldn’t put it off any longer. “Dayo… last night...”

 

Dayo looked him in the eyes, his embarrassment clearly visible on his face. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” They continued looking at each other, silently communicating, saying so much that neither of them could voice. Then Dayo looked down at his plate. “And I shouldn’t have hit Bård.”

 

Gabriel felt his anxiety fading away. Dayo must have been exhausted last night. Only a few days had passed since his brother had been wounded. It made Gabriel feel guilty for asking so many questions last night. “No, you shouldn’t have, but I’m going to put some ice on it today. He’ll be alright.”

 

Dayo looked up and smiled. “You really are quite the caretaker. You’ll make a good doctor someday.”

 

Gabriel smiled. There were few things that made him feel as good as a compliment from his big brother.

 

* * *

 

It was just after 9:00 am when the doorbell rang. Vegard had been sitting at the kitchen table with Calle and Mikael. None of them felt much like eating, nonetheless Ngozi had been fluttering around them, doing his best to put something into their stomachs for the past twenty minutes. They had no idea when to expect delivery of the proof of life, and the room was filled with nervous energy and unspoken concerns. So when the doorbell rang they all jumped and looked at each other with cautious optimism.

 

As he watched Calle walk to the door, Vegard's hopes seemed to evaporate. This probably wasn’t THE package, the courier was at the _front_ door, he’d come in _broad daylight_. Vegard watched carefully as Calle opened the door. He could see the young man holding the package casually, as if he were delivering a fitness wristband or a tea infuser that one of them had ordered online. This wasn’t exactly the cloak and dagger delivery he had been expecting.

 

Calle took the package, and returned to the kitchen. “Do you think this is it?”

 

The delivery was one thing, but the package itself wasn’t what Vegard had expected to see either. Instead of a large envelope it was a box which was about the size of a document and 10 to 12 cm thick. Why would someone send a photo in something that size?  This couldn’t be THE package, could it?

 

Everyone was silent for a moment. “It is very light,” The blond offered optimistically.

 

“Bring it over here, Calle.” Vegard surprised even himself with the calm, certainty in his voice.

 

Calle set it down and stepped back. Ngozi provided a small knife to cut through the packing tape. Vegard held the knife in his hand and hesitated for a second. What was he about to see? How would Bård look? If this was IT, he would soon know. And once he had seen the image he would have an inkling of how bad it had been for his brother. He carefully cut through the tape, opened the flaps of the box and looked inside. The first thing he saw was a note. The scrawled message was short and to the point.

 

 

> **_YOU WANT PROOF??_ **
> 
> **_  
> _**
> 
> **_HERE’S YOUR PROOF!!_ **
> 
>  

The large, angry handwriting seemed to scream at him from the page.

 

For a moment he wondered if he should touch the paper, there might be fingerprints or some other evidence that could be of use. But forensic science wasn’t going to help them now, Bård didn’t have that kind of time. He set the note aside and then stared into the box in confusion for a few seconds. He must have still been expecting an envelope, which hopefully would contain a photo of Bård. Instead there was what appeared to be an old shirt, which was rolled up tightly into a ball. He picked up the shirt and held it in one hand while he rummaged through the rest of the box with the other. It was filled with nothing more than crumpled up newspaper. His heart pounded as he unrolled the shirt, and saw a small, clear plastic bag fall onto the table. Whatever was inside the bag, was wrapped in white paper. He picked up the bag, and immediately felt as if he knew what he would find. He pulled the contents out, with a desperate hope that he might be wrong, and opened up the paper, which he now saw was spotted with blood. Out fell two fingers.

 

His instinct had been correct but in no way softened the blow of the grim reality in front of him. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. What kind of a monster would do this? His whole body seemed to be shaking with anger. Someone had done this to his brother! The image that came to him of Bård, alone and in pain, no doubt bone thin by now and probably losing hope, was something that he couldn’t afford to dwell upon. Not if he were going to be of any use to his brother.

 

Vegard forced himself to look away from the fingers. It was then he noticed that his hand was still holding the blood stained piece of paper. Before he could crumple it up, something on the paper caught his eye. He hadn’t noticed anything other than the splatters of blood at first, but now he could see that the paper was itself a note. He carefully flattened it against the table and began to read.

 

 

> _You seem to be under the impression that YOU can tell US what to do. You are wrong._
> 
> _As we removed your friend’s fingers, we expressed our regret to him and explained that his friends were being uncooperative. He screamed the most when the knife severed his first finger. After that came begging and much that was incoherent to us. Perhaps in his native tongue? At the end, there was nothing but moaning and whimpering._
> 
> _We then asked him if he’d like you to cooperate and, being unable to find words at the moment, he nodded._
> 
> _Now that YOU understand the situation, we are certain that you will cooperate and deliver the ransom we have specified. We will call at 18:00 to give you further instructions._

 

Vegard couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of the note. Although he’d barely talked directly to the man, he was certain that the note came from Big Bosi. The man was ruthless and greedy. Absolutely evil. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Big Bosi would be willing to sell out his own brother for the right price.

 

When he finally looked up, he noticed that Calle was sitting next to him with his head in his hands. Ngozi was now seated and appeared to be in shock. Mikael also looked pale, but when he spoke his voice sounded even and reassuring. “Vegard, I’ll  call TVNorge, if you’d like.”

 

All Vegard could do was nod, otherwise he was certain he would scream.

 

* * *

 

Dayo felt fortunate that Gabriel hadn’t asked him any additional questions this morning, but he knew that his brother was bound to ask more, Gabriel had always been the curious type. So, after breakfast he quickly got dressed and hurried out of the house. Why push his luck? He got into his car and attempted to close the door. He had been in a small car accident almost two years ago. The accident hadn’t caused any major damage to the car, but it had left the driver’s door somewhat bent and misshapen. It usually took about three tries to get it to latch. When the door finally latched, he turned the key and started the car. It groaned terribly, as it always did, but fortunately it started. Letting out a sigh of relief, he put the car in gear and headed north.

 

He was going to need a new car soon. That thought usually filled him with dread. Where would the money come from? But today that thought filled him with an excitement that he hadn’t felt in who knows how long. He’d be able to buy almost any car he wanted.

 

A huge smile spread across his face as he thought about it. A sports car! He could get a sports car!  He pictured himself driving down the road, turning heads, in his red Jaguar F-type convertible. In a car like that, he could even drive though some of the wealthier neighborhoods unchallenged. But there were so many cars to choose from. Maybe he would buy a Porsche Boxster, that had always been one of his favorites, or a BMW Z4. There was no need to decide today. He’d have to give it some thought, but whatever he decided, it would _have to be_ a convertible, no matter what.

 

He pondered his options for a few more miles, picturing each vehicle in red, and then in other colors just to make sure that red was the color he wanted. He imagined the leather seats and the airconditioning, his favorite music playing over the expensive sound system and the way the car would hug the road. He would be the envy of his friends.

 

But then reality hit. He couldn’t do that. The car he would buy couldn’t even be new, much less a fancy sports car. A car like that would draw too much attention. He’d have to buy a used car, and probably not too new of one at that, otherwise people would wonder how he could afford it. No matter. He’d still have a new car, new to him anyway. It would start right up and the radio would work and you wouldn’t have to raise your voice to have a conversation over all the rattling.

 

For the rest of the trip he daydreamed about all the things that they could soon own, as long as they kept it all hidden in the privacy of their home. By the time he drove into Opi he had mentally spent half of their money. He would have to be more careful with their real life money, but daydreaming was free.

 

He had decided to go to a print shop in the small town of Opi because he was concerned about being identified as part of the kidnapping ring if he went to Enugu. He knew that Big Bosi had used that printshop before and remembered his boss commenting that the owner would print anything and keep his mouth shut, assuming you tipped him well enough.

 

Opi wasn’t nearly as large as Enugu, so he found the print shop quickly, and then looked for a nearby parking spot. Dayo had never gotten used to the free-for-all that parking was in some of the smaller towns. In Opi, people parked in whatever direction pleased them, wherever it pleased them, including pulling right up onto the sidewalk. Double-parked cars were usually left running, their lights flashing as an indication that the owner would be right back, even though that often wasn’t the case. Occasionally however, parking rules were enforced in small towns like Opi, probably more often at the end of the month, when an officer wanted to fill his quota. Dayo didn’t want to attract the attention of the police, so he didn’t dare double-park, even though the odds of getting by with it were in his favor.  

 

After a few minutes of driving in circles he found a parking spot. It was a number of blocks down from the shop and off on a side street, but at least it was a designated parking spot. He took off on foot toward the print shop, walking along the shopping district’s main street. As he passed the numerous merchants along the way, he looked at the various items that each store had for sale. It had been so long since he’d bought much other than food and the occasional item of clothing for his brother, that he couldn’t remember when he had last allowed himself to look at anything else, much less think about buying something. But soon… very soon…

 

“May I help you?”

 

He hadn’t realized that he had come to a complete stop and was staring at leather jackets. He shook his head and mumbled, “No. I’ve got to go.” He admonished himself. _I’m on a mission, I have to stay focused._ He turned toward the print shop and resumed walking, only to run directly into someone walking in the opposite direction. “Oh! Sorry.” Dayo kept his head down and tried to sidestep his human roadblock.

 

“Yeah, me too,” the other party responded.

 

Before Dayo could make a quick exit, that same person spoke again.

 

“Dayo?”

 

His head jerked up. In front of him stood another one of Big Bosi’s guards. “Hi… uh... Eze.” Dayo’s brain went into overdrive. _Why is he here? What do I say? What if he asks where I’ve been? Has Big Bosi been angry at me for not making contact?_   “What are you doing here?”

 

“We were sent into town for supplies. The boss has decided that going into Enugu is too risky right now, so he sent us here. I haven’t seen you for a while. Have you been to the new camp yet?”

 

“Uh.. no.” Dayo held his arm protectively. “You know, I got shot.”

 

Another guard walked up to join them. “Oh, hey Dayo.”

 

It was Chukudi. He was kind of loud and obnoxious, not really one of Dayo’s favorites. “Hi Chukudi.”

 

Eze continued as if Chukudi hadn’t said anything. “I know you got shot, but Big Bosi has been asking about you. He wants you to come in.”

 

 _Oh crap oh crap oh crap…_. “I tried calling yesterday and the day before… no one ever answered.”

 

“Yeah. We’ve had trouble with our phones. Cell phone coverage is next to nothing out there. Are you coming in today?”

 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it. I mean, Big Bosi said I didn’t have to come in right away, because of my wound.” Dayo supported his arm again, trying to play up his injury.

 

“Yeah, well, I think he wants you to come in today. We’re all supposed to show up by noon for a big meeting. I think I would go if I were you.”

 

Dayo’s heart was racing. _Why can’t I come in today? What would sound reasonable? Will these two knuckleheads tell Big Bosi that they saw me when they report back? Probably._

 

“Dayo… Are you listening?”

 

“Yes. I mean no. I was trying to figure out if I … if I...” _Isn’t there anyway to get out of this?_ “...If I have time… you know… right now… ”   _An excuse, I need an excuse. Why can’t I think of one?_  “... and my brother is at home…” _I can’t risk upsetting Big Bosi._ “I don’t know. I guess I’d better go in, at least for a while.”

 

“What are you doing here today, Dayo?” Chukudi looked at him with interest.

 

“We ran out of supplies for taking care of my arm.”

 

Eze joined in, “Why’d you come all the way up here?”

 

“For the same reason that you two did. I thought that Enugu might not be the safest place right now.”

 

“Well, I for one am really glad that we ran into you. I need to get back pretty soon for guard duty. Eze here wants to visit his girl before heading back. Mmm, mmm ,mmm, mmm, mmm.” Chukudi made exaggerated kissing sounds and hugged himself tightly, turning his back to his audience of two, so that it almost looked like someone else was running their fingers all over his back.

 

“At least I have a girlfriend!” Eze turned to Dayo. “Actually, that would be great. Will you take this idiot back to camp with you?” Eze gave Chukudi a good natured shove which caused him to stop his one man show.

 

Dayo didn’t know what to do. He needed to deliver proof of life, today! What would they think if he didn’t? Then again, the most important thing was to make sure that Big Bosi never found out about Bård, for Gabriel’s safety as well as his own. He’d just have to try to get out of camp early. Maybe he could play up his injury, appear to be in pain or act tired or something. “Yeah. I guess, he replied unenthusiastically. “I’ll just go to the apothecary and get my supplies while you do your errand for Big Bosi.”

 

“No, we already finished that. But I don’t mind going with you while you finish your errand. We should probably let loverboy get going.” Chukudi smirked at Eze.

 

Eze looked to be annoyed by the comment, but didn’t seem to know what to say since he really did want to get going.

 

“Oh, ok. Great!” Dayo had hoped that he would be able to lose Chukudi and Eze, at least long enough to complete his mission at the print shop, but clearly that was not going to happen. Eze hastily said his goodbyes and jogged off. Dayo resumed walking down the street, now with Chukudi at his side, and headed toward the apothecary. He had no idea where he’d put more medical supplies when he got home, Gabriel had enough bandages on hand to open up a small field hospital. As they continued down the street, Dayo attempted to look interested in whatever Chukudi was rambling on about, and tried desperately not to stare at the printshop as they passed by.

 

* * *

  

Less than two hours ago, Tom Hirschfield arrived in Enugu. He and his partner, Peter Kanin, were the the team of hostage negotiators that TVNorge had hired. Yesterday, they decided it was time for one of them to be on-site. If they were lucky and this came to the point of making a money drop, they didn’t want one of Bård’s friends to do it, and they definitely did _not_ want his brother involved in that.

 

“I wish you would listen to me. These kidnappers are professionals. They would send a photo if they could.” Tom was beginning to feel like he was on a merry-go-round. This was the third time he had explained the same thing. However, this was his job. He understood how impossible these situations were for friends and family members. He often received this kind of push back. It was natural for family members to be willing to pay anyone anything for the release of their loved one, without wanting to question the honesty of the offer. He in no way blamed Vegard for not listening to him.

 

“But what if he’s just crazy, or bullheaded, or stupid? Maybe he just didn’t want to send a photo.” Vegard had been arguing with the hostage negotiator for over an hour. The way he saw it, this Tom Hirschfield fellow had barely gotten into the house before he started taking over. Such a typical American.

 

“Vegard, the kidnappers have one goal, to get paid. These kidnappers don’t have any political agendas, it’s all about the money for them.”

 

Of course, it had been Americans who had rescued him only a few days ago. Lt. Armstrong had gotten himself shot trying to help him. Vegard realized that he shouldn’t condemn Hirschfield just for his place of origin. “Listen, Hirschfield. We are talking about my brother. I want to get him out now!”

 

Calle tried to step in. “Tom, what about the fingers? They belong to someone. What makes you so sure that they weren’t Bård’s?”

 

“I understand that it must have been disturbing to open that package, and obviously the person who sent them was hoping that it would have that effect, but can’t you see that whoever sent them must not have Bård or they would have sent a photo? Every bit of evidence that we have, and we’ve gathered quite a bit since your rescue Vegard, indicates that these men are professionals. They are accustomed to providing a proof of life, it’s part of their standard operating procedure. They have provided it many times before and have gotten what they wanted. If they had your brother they would _want_ to take his picture and send it to us.”

 

“So, what are you saying? When the call comes in from this kidnapper we tell him to go screw himself?” Those people had already cut off two of Bård’s fingers. Vegard really didn’t want to find out what they might do to his little brother next if they didn’t get paid by midnight.

 

“No. There is a second kidnapper though, we’ve been calling him K2. Maybe he actually has a photo.”

 

“Then why haven’t we gotten it? We haven’t even heard from him today. Maybe he was just someone that read about Bård in the paper.”

 

“Of course, that’s a possibility. But maybe he’s just been delayed.”

 

“Oh right! The only thing these people want is the money, right? So what could possibly be delaying him? According to you, if he has Bård he is eager to get a picture to us.”

 

“Things don’t run as smoothly here as they do at home. People have unreliable cars, power outages are common, internet connections are unreliable, the roads they use are usually unpaved and often rutted. Things happen. We need to be patient.”

 

Vegard felt a hand on his arm. “Vegard, please sit down for a minute.”

 

He knew it was Calle,  and he understood that his friend was trying to look out for him, but he didn’t have time for that right now. “Damn it, Calle, I can sit down later! Bård needs me to look out for him now. Can’t you see that? Can’t anyone see that?!”

 

“I’m with you, Vegard.” Mikael spoke softly, still aware that he wasn’t Vegard’s favorite person. “Right now we have to focus on Bård. Tom, what if we assume, for now, that the first kidnapper is the one we need to communicate with?”

 

“K1?”

 

“Yeah, K1. If we hear from K2, we’ll have to look at that, but right now the only person trying to deal with us is K1.”

 

Tom looked at Mikael. You didn’t work at his job for over 17 years without being able to read people pretty well. He could tell that Mikael wanted him to drop it for a little while, probably because of Vegard’s health and mental state. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Mikael was right about one thing: the only person who was in contact with them right now was K1. As much as he was trying to downplay it, if K2 didn’t contact them soon, maybe he wasn’t a legitimate caller.

 

“Alright, alright. For now we’ll assume that K1 has Bård.” Tom could see that Vegard calmed down a bit upon hearing that. He hoped that he wasn’t giving Bård’s brother false hope. He had seen situations like this over the years, when proof of life was not forthcoming, and in his experience, it almost always ended up that the hostage was already dead. But there was no way he was going to say that right now.

 

* * *

 

When he heard the door squeak, Bård looked up from the food he’d been staring at. Gabriel was back to pick up his dinner tray. It was funny, when he was first taken hostage, he was only fed twice a day at the most, and it was so awful that it was a chore to eat. He would have been so grateful to have had Gabriel’s cooking then, and three times a day no less! But now… it was difficult to eat much of anything.

 

As Gabriel approached, he began to frown. “You have to eat something.”

 

“I’m not hungry.” Bård looked at his food again. He was supposed to eat it all. That had been one of the items in his daily routine, back when he still felt like he and Vegard were going to get out. “I’ll try to eat a little more.”

 

“I’ll sit with you if you’d like.” Gabriel pulled the chair over, so that it was next to Bård’s bed.

 

Bård wasn’t sure if he preferred to have Gabriel’s company or if he’d rather be alone. It didn’t really matter. He didn’t think that Gabriel was asking for his permission or his preference. He brought another forkful of food to his mouth and began chewing.

 

“How does your face feel now? Do you think the ice is helping?”

 

“Yeah, I guess.” He took another forkful and chewed some more.

 

“I think the swelling has gone down.”

 

Gabriel seemed to want to talk, but Bård couldn’t imagine why.

 

“Yes, I’m sure of it. It looks much better.”

 

The teenager was inspecting his face intently now.

 

“Probably won’t even be noticeable in a few days.”

 

It sounded like Gabriel was trying to convince him that Dayo’s actions hadn’t been that bad.

 

“You should probably put ice on it again, before you go to sleep.”

 

Or maybe Gabriel was embarrassed by what his brother had done and was trying to fix the mess he’d made.

 

“I’ve gone through all of our ice, but I think more is ready now.”

 

Bård felt so tired of all this. Trying to figure out other people’s motives. Weighing every word he said so that he didn’t make the situation even worse. As if it could get much worse now. He’d been holding back his thoughts for so long that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to let them fly again without concern for the consequences.

 

Despite holding them back, “inappropriate” comments continued to run through his head constantly. The absurdity of the situation seemed to encourage their occurrence, rather than diminish them. He had learned to ignore his thoughts for the most part, as if they were elevator music or some white noise.  But just for a moment, he allowed himself to think of what he’d really like to say.

 

 

> _“Won’t be noticeable in a few days? Well, maybe he’ll hit me harder next time.”_
> 
> _  
>  _
> 
> _“I probably deserved it. How dare I lie there, sleeping in the middle of the night? I can see how that must have gotten on his nerves.”_
> 
> _  
>  _
> 
> _“I’m glad the swelling is going down. It will be so much less disturbing when my family has to view my body.”_

 

He managed to keep those thoughts to himself and simply replied, “Um hmm.”

 

“Dayo is getting your picture to… whoever he’s supposed to send it to. You should be out of here soon.”

 

Bård studied Gabriel. The boy still seemed convinced that Dayo wasn’t going to hurt him, Bård could see it on his face. Unsure of what to say, he just kept chewing.

 

“I asked Dayo last night if he…. if he was going to kill you and he said no.”

 

“Really? Great.” He made little effort to cover his sarcasm. This whole conversation was ridiculous. He knew that he didn’t want to get into another shouting match with Gabriel, and it wasn’t likely that he’d score any points by repeating that Dayo was planning on killing him. But what was he supposed to do, keep quiet and pretend that he agreed with the foolishness that Gabriel was spouting?

 

“I believe him. He told me himself, he needs you to collect the ransom. And once we get the money… well, we won’t need you anymore. You can go free.”

 

“Did you ask him about my brother? Did he even admit it?” That was what he wanted to know.

 

“I did ask.”

 

Bård stopped chewing and waited for him to elaborate.

 

“I asked about him… and… and...”

 

Gabriel didn’t need to finish, Bård already understood. He looked away from Gabriel and tried to breathe.

 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I guess Big Bosi doesn’t let anyone live after they’ve escaped.”

 

The pain in his chest told him that he’d still been holding on to some small sliver of hope. How many more times did he have to hear that his brother was dead before he’d stop hoping that it wasn’t true? He wished Vegard hadn’t tried to escape, Dayo had warned them that Big Bosi didn’t like that. They had both known what that meant.

 

“Are you going to eat anymore?”

 

However, despite his sorrow, he was beginning to feel sort proud of his brother. Vegard must have seen an opportunity and taken it. That probably was about the best anyone could do in this situation.

 

“You really should try, I think you’re losing weight.”

 

His brother had been brave to the end. He wouldn’t have expected anything else.

 

“Bård?”

 

“Have you thought more about what we talked about last night?” Bård turned and looked directly at Gabriel.

 

Gabriel seemed to freeze, keeping his eyes down.

 

“You don’t have to go along with him, you know. You could unlock me and let me go. I wouldn’t implicate you in anything.” Bård spoke quietly but with urgency.

 

“Dayo is going to release you.” Gabriel’s voice was sounding less and less sure.

 

“Do you really believe that?”

 

Gabriel didn’t answer right away. Doubt seemed to be weighing heavily on him.

 

“How can you believe that after the way he hit me last night?” Bård’s voice was becoming more and more emotional, catching in his throat, occasionally breaking.

 

Gabriel shifted in his chair and breathed out nervously. “I… uh… I...”

 

“My hands were tied, I couldn’t even defend myself. I hadn’t done anything to him.”

 

“I don’t know why he did that. It’s not like him. It’s….”

 

“He slapped me twice while you were in the kitchen getting the newspaper.” Dayo might beat him later for speaking this way to Gabriel, but how much longer could he possibly have. A day? Two? Maybe less. “I can’t imagine that you’re ok with him hitting me, Gabriel.” He could see that he was getting through to him, Gabriel looked upset. “I’m so…so incredibly grateful to you for saving my life. If you don’t do something, I’m afraid it’s all going to have been for nothing.”

 

“But he told me, he’s going to set you free.” Gabriel’s voice was full of emotion. He was desperately trying to believe his own words..

 

Bård wanted to scream, _“He’s lying to you,”_ but he managed to keep it inside.

 

“You’re a good person, Gabriel. And I… I can help you. If you help me get out of here, I can help you get through college.” Perhaps he should have said “both of you”, but Gabriel was smart, he would have known that was a lie.

 

“I don’t know.” Gabriel stood up and picked up Bård’s tray.

 

“Think about it, will you?”

 

Bård wasn’t sure, but he thought Gabriel gave him a small nod before turning to go.

 

* * *

 

Dayo was a little overwhelmed by everything that needed to be done at the new camp. The only structures, save for one very small cement block building, were tents. Everything needed to be rebuilt, an office, a kitchen and eating area, holding cells for the hostages, and barracks for the guards. His concern wasn’t because he was beginning to think about staying after they had received their ransom, it was because he was trying to imagine how he could get out of work to carry out his plan.

 

He received a warm welcome from Big Bosi and was briefly asked about his injury, but it was clear that the boss wasn’t really that interested in his recovery, his mind was on rebuilding. As they walked around the camp, Big Bosi told him all his plans for rebuilding. Dayo was concerned that he’d be expected to participate in the heavy lifting but he was assured that, at least for today, his assignment would be to supervise some of the younger guards as they began building Big Bosi’s new office.

 

The meeting at noon turned out to be little more than a pep rally, Big Bosi's attempt at getting his crew excited about all the extra work they were going to have to do. It was amazing to watch the influence Big Bosi had, especially over the younger guards, they were practically giddy to begin rebuilding everything. Dayo wished he hadn't listened to Eze.

 

The afternoon went by quickly. The younger guards had no experience in construction, so Dayo had been kept busy with their questions and with trying keep them from hurting themselves or each other with the tools. By dinner time, the guards he’d been supervising had worked up quite an appetite. They practically ran over each other in their attempts to be first in line for the food.

 

Dayo was glad to be done with them, it was difficult to figure out his next move when he was trying to keep them from cutting off their own thumbs. He needed to get off work and take care of the proof of life. However, it was probably too late already to get a print made and, if that was the case, he wouldn’t be able to do anything until tomorrow anyway. It was important to act normal now, not send up any red flags, and that meant staying for the rest of his shift without complaining.

 

When  Dayo entered the food tent he saw his friend, Kupti, the camp cook.

 

“Dayo! You’re back!” Kupti smiled wide and then laughed. “How many times has someone said that to you today?”

 

“Quite a few.” Dayo huffed out a laugh.

 

“How was your first day back?”

 

“Long.” Dayo sighed. He really was exhausted, and his day was nowhere near over.

 

“Come with me, I’ll let you cut in line at the front.”

 

“Thanks, but I’m not sure if I’m hungry.”

 

Kupti patted him on his healthy shoulder in a consoling way, and then his eyebrows shot up. “Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, would you take the meal over to the hostages? I don’t really have time now and the new recruit that was assigned to do it went home early with a headache.

 

Dayo couldn’t decide which was more annoying, having to take the food to the hostages, or the fact that someone went home with nothing more than a headache. That was something that only the youngest of the recruits ever got away with. Dayo shrugged. “Sure. No problem, Kupti.” Dayo picked up the food and stepped outside of the tent. Taking the food over to the holding cell wasn’t such a bad job. And while he was doing it, he could think about his problem without anyone bothering him.

 

The two hostages that remained, were being held in the one solid structure in camp. There was a guard posted outside, which was fortunate because Dayo wasn’t up to handling his weapon and carrying the food at the same time. When Dayo opened the door, he immediately heard quiet sobs. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the two men together in the corner. He recognized them, they were the Germans, they’d been held for a while now. Dayo even knew their names. The darker haired of the two, Carl, seemed to be trying to comfort his friend in their native language. The lighter haired man, Tanner, had his hand wrapped in a bandage, blood was seeping through in spots.

 

“He needs a doctor.” Carl’s voice waivered a bit.

 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong?! They cut off two of his fingers today! He’s in a lot of pain and I don’t think the bleeding has stopped yet.”

 

“Why did they do that?”

 

“You tell me. They took him out early this morning and when he came back…” Carl was struggling not to cry. He seemed to be trying to stay strong for Tanner.

 

“I’ll ask if we have any pain killer.” Dayo felt a little sick. They didn’t normally do that, unless the hostage’s friends needed some “encouragement.” But, they always told the hostages their reasons and took a photo which they sent, along with the fingers, to their friends. “They didn’t say why?”

 

“No. They didn’t tell me anything.” Tanner finally spoke up. Dayo could hear the pain in his voice.

 

“They took a photo?”

 

“No. Why? Should they have?” Tanner looked frightened.

 

“Uh.. no. Sometimes they do. I’ll see what I can do.” Dayo wanted out of there. He hated to think what Big Bosi’s plans were for these men.

 

When he  was back outside and had locked the door, he stood still for a moment. It didn’t make much sense. The way things were now, he had assumed that Big Bosi would want to make a deal as soon as possible. It would be easier to manage hostages once the camp was in better shape.

 

He went back to the tent where the guards were eating their meal. The boys he’d been working with were close to being done eating and their conversation was becoming quite boisterous. He decided not to sit with them. After grabbing something to drink and half a serving of Kupti’s meal, he went to a small table, off in the corner, so that he could be alone and think.

 

Dayo’s mind was far off, trying to work out how he was going to get his plan back on track. He didn’t notice anyone approaching until he saw someone standing next to him out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Hello, Dayo.”

 

He looked up and saw Big Bosi. “Uh…. Hello, sir.”

 

Big Bosi proceeded to set his food on the table and sit down beside him. Dayo felt his pulse quicken and made an effort not to fidget. There was no reason to believe that this man had any suspicions about him at all, much less any reason to believe that he had taken Bård right from under his nose. He needed to remain calm.

 

When Big Bosi had his food arranged to his satisfaction, he looked up from his plate and spoke. “So, tell me, Dayo. How did you spend your days off?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I could write this day in one chapter, but ... apparently not. At least this way you get part of it sooner, right? 
> 
> Thanks so much for your support! <3


	23. Chapter 23

 

It was a little after 11:00 pm. Tom was preparing to make the drop. Vegard was sitting nearby, watching and worrying. Of course, that was what the kidnapper wanted, wasn't it? Vegard had been expecting K1 to call at 6:00 pm, the note had been very specific about that, but 6:00 pm came and went without a call. As the minutes ticked by, his anxiety escalated. Tom tried to reassure him that this was a common tactic, the kidnapper was just playing with them, but Vegard couldn’t get his mounting anxiety under control until the call finally came in at 6:56 pm. It took less than a minute for the caller to run through the specifics: 200,000,000 naira, central market square, at midnight. No police. No funny business. The money was to be placed, bag and all, into the garbage bin at the southwest corner of the square.

Earlier today, he had been certain that they should pay K1. Seeing two fingers fall onto the kitchen table in front of you had a way of swaying your opinion. But now he was second guessing himself. No new information had provoked this change of heart, in fact, no other possible suspects had contacted them today in any way, no other packages, no other phone calls. The only new information today had come from the Oslo police. They had been working closely with experts from the NIS lab, using state-of-the-art voice recognition software to analyze the calls that TVNorge had received. They were 99% certain that K1 and the original kidnapper were one and the same. From every indication, it made sense to focus their attention on K1, so why did he feel so unsettled?

Vegard checked his watch again. It was 11:05 pm, only one minute later than it was the last time he'd checked. Tom had just put on his bulletproof vest and was checking his gun. Vegard wasn’t sure why it bothered him to see that Tom had protective gear, it wasn’t like he wanted the man to get hurt, but just the sight of it was adding to his anxiety.

“A bulletproof vest and a gun? Are those really necessary?”

Tom looked up at him. “Hopefully not. It’s a precaution.”

“Don’t you think that you’re inviting trouble?”

“I’m not going to pull my gun unless it’s absolutely necessary. And Detective Contee will be there for backup.”

“I thought we didn’t trust the police.”

“Calle and Mikael seem to believe that they can trust Detective Contee. He’s the only one who knows about this drop.”

“But what if bullets do start flying? Bård won’t be wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“It’s very unlikely that your brother will even be at the drop site.”

“Then, how will we know where to find him?” He’d already asked many of these questions before, but he was hoping that Tom might give him some more comforting answers this time.

“They will release him somewhere nearby.”

“What if he’s hurt? I wouldn’t have been able to walk very far on my own.”

Tom looked back up at him. “He’ll probably be left somewhere that is relatively busy. If we don’t find him ourselves, someone else should find him fairly quickly. They won’t hide him.”

“Don’t they ever just do an exchange? Couldn’t they hand him over to us at the same time as we hand them the money?”

Tom shook his head as he looked through his duffle bag. “No. They don’t do that.”

“But I thought…”

“Maybe in the movies. I think that’s more when governments are exchanging political prisoners.”

“How do we know that they’ll release him?”

Tom looked Vegard straight in the eyes. “We don’t. I told you that.”

Vegard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wished that he were going on the drop. He felt like he needed to be there. But he had already argued that point, unsuccessfully, for at least an hour. Tom told him that it would be like allowing a doctor to do surgery on his own family. He was too emotionally invested in the outcome, he couldn’t possibly come along. Vegard only relented when it was clear that Mikael and Ngozi - and even Calle - were in agreement with Tom.

“They don’t want to keep the hostages, Vegard. Usually they are only too happy to release their prisoners once they’ve been paid.” Tom reached out and put his hand on Vegard’s shoulder reassuringly.

Vegard realized that was probably true, in most cases, but he wasn’t going to feel better until he saw Bård for himself.

* * *

 

 

It was a little after 11:00 pm. Bård was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He kept going over the conversation he’d had with Gabriel after dinner. _“But he told me, he’s going to set you free.”_ After everything that had happened, even after seeing Dayo beating on him, Gabriel still seemed to believe his brother. _“He’s not like that.”_ Maybe he had been an idiot to think that he could change Gabriel’s mind.

Bård stayed awake, long after Gabriel and Dayo had gone to bed, anxiously trying to come up with some kind of a plan. Before he finally fell back to sleep around dawn, he decided that his best chance was to overpower Gabriel. He needed to take action the next chance he got.

His opportunity came after breakfast. Gabriel took him to the bathroom so he could take a shower. As they walked down the hall Bård realized that he hadn’t thought about the specifics of how to get past Gabriel, only that he needed to do it now. He decided to take the shower and act on whatever plan he came up with when he came out. He stood under the warm water trying to decide the best way to grab Gabriel’s gun and whether to pull or push it. If he pushed he could strike Gabriel with the gun, if he pulled he might be able to gain control of the weapon. He really didn't want to end up with the weapon in his hands. What would he do with it? As much as he didn't want to hurt Gabriel, he decided to push on the weapon. After that, he’d just have to react to whatever happened. As he got out of the shower, he began to feel ill. The floor seemed to tilt. And then everything went dark.

“Are you alright? Bård, wake up.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor with Gabriel kneeling next to him. If his vision had been clear, now would have been the perfect time to escape. Gabriel had both hands on him, so he must have set his gun down. But even lying flat on the floor he felt as if everything was spinning around him.

Gabriel had a hand on his forehead. “You feel hot. Did you turn the shower up too warm?”

“I don’t know.” Bård heard himself slur out his answer. He tried to push himself up.

“Whoa. Don’t try to get up yet. Let’s cool you off a bit.” Gabriel patiently applied cool washcloths to his head until the room stopped spinning.

Finally, the number of Gabriels hovering over him and trying to bring his temperature back down, returned to the more reasonable number of one. “What happened?”

“I think you got overheated. I told you, you have to be careful about getting too hot, especially for the first week or two. It hasn’t even been a week since you had heat stroke, you know.”

Bård shook his head. He had no idea how long he’d been at this house. Right now he felt like he’d been here just as long as he had been held at the first place.

“Well, it’s only been five days. Do you feel well enough for me to help you to your room?”

_His room?_ As sick as he still felt, he was well enough to be annoyed by that description of his prison cell. As if he were a lodger here, or maybe a very special guest. It was much more comfortable than where he had been held before, but it wasn’t _his room_. Still, he bit his tongue. It wouldn’t help to argue with the boy. Bård sighed and allowed Gabriel to help him sit up and eventually be pulled to standing.

Gabriel helped him to the bed and gently put the handcuffs back on. Then he told him to rest and quietly exited.

He felt completely disheartened. Between having had heat stroke and his overall weight loss, it was clear to him that he didn’t have the strength right now to do this alone. He had no idea how Vegard had managed to escape on his own, but he needed help.

“Oh, Vegard. I wish we had just escaped together. Maybe I could have protected you. I could have caused a distraction and you could have gotten away. Or, maybe we could have helped each other. We could have gotten to safety… or maybe we wouldn’t have, but at least we would have been together.”

The threads of hope to which he’d been clinging seemed to be unraveling in front of his eyes. In that moment he felt as if he couldn’t take it any more. He needed to be free, he needed those damn handcuffs off right now. Irrationally, he began yanking against his restraints, trying to pull his wrists free with as much force as he could muster. The longer he tried without success to free himself, the wilder he became. His thrashing continued until eventually, he had no more physical energy. His mind, however, was still racing with a desperation so strong that it felt like his head might explode. Bård brought his hands up to his head and held it as tight as he could while he gasped for breath, the hopelessness of the situation completely overwhelming him.

* * *

 

It was a little after 11:00. Dayo had just been told that he could leave. He did his best not to run to his car, although his heart was racing as if he had. As he drove away, he spoke quietly to himself, “Don’t drive too fast. Don’t drive too fast. Don’t drive too fast.” When he was sure he was out of sight, and after checking his rear view mirror for headlights, he stepped on the gas.

His conversation with Big Bosi had turned out to be very informative. It had also completely freaked him out. Big Bosi told him, almost proudly, that he was attempting to collect a ransom on Bård. Of course, his boss was under the impression that Bård was already dead, lying unfound somewhere in the wilderness. Who was going to counter his claim? When Dayo asked if Bård’s employer had requested a proof of life, Big Bosi told him about the German’s fingers.

Dayo felt ill, just thinking about it. That was his money! Big Bosi was trying to collect his money!! And what if Bård’s people paid him? Would there still be money left over? He couldn’t believe that Big Bosi would pull a stunt like this.

He was still trying to come to grips with that information, when Big Bosi got up from the table and asked him to follow. It wasn’t until Dayo was in his boss’s truck that he figured out where they were going. They drove far out into the country to make another ransom call. While Big Bosi made the call, Dayo leaned against the truck and listened.

The entire drive back, Dayo wondered why Big Bosi had brought him. Did Big Bosi suspect something? He had long been one of Big Bosi’s favorites and certainly he was someone that his boss relied upon for many things. It was more likely that he was being groomed to take even a bigger role in the organization. That might make it harder to quit in a few days, but he had enough things to worry about for now

He turned at the next crossroads and began driving west. He had to distance himself from his house before he made the call. He glanced at the clock on the dash, it was already 11:08 pm. He wasn’t nearly far enough away from his home.

He sped down the road, still annoyed that Big Bosi was making a play for his money. At least he had found out in time. It was better to be informed. Now he knew when the drop was to take place and how much Big Bosi had demanded. Dayo hadn’t asked for quite as much, but perhaps now his price had gone up.

At 11:15 pm he decided he would have to make the call in five more minutes, no matter what. At 11:20 pm he still felt like he was too close to home, too close to Gabriel. He decided that he would allow himself five more minutes. He stepped on the gas and tried to calm himself with the fact that he had Bård in his possession. He had what they wanted.

He watched the clock and pulled over to the side of the road as soon as he saw the four change to a five. He ran to the back of his car and opened the trunk, quickly digging into his backpack and pulling out one of the burner phones. He turned the phone on and waited. If he couldn’t get a signal here.... if he had to drive further…. it might be too late.

Dayo held his breath until  the phone came to life. The signal wasn’t very strong here, but it was enough. He dug out the phone number from the small outside pocket of his bag and carefully entered each digit into the phone. His hands were shaking and his stomach was doing flip flops. He hoped he could remember what he wanted to say.

Somebody said hello or something on the other end. His heart was pounding so loudly that it was almost all he could hear. “Yes. I am calling about your employee, uh… your friend, Bård. I have had… something came up. I have the photo, but I haven’t been able to deliver it yet.”

“Yes. You’re calling about Bård. We have been waiting all day for the proof of life.”

“I know. I just had some things come up that I hadn’t counted on. I was unable to print the photo today. I will do that first thing tomorrow. You will have your proof of life before noon.”

“Before noon. Yes. Would you repeat that for Tor. He just came back into the office.”

Dayo looked at his watch. The seconds were ticking away. Even with burner phones they had ways of triangulating your location by using the local cell towers. Of course, it would probably be a while before anyone could come looking for him, but he didn’t want to take any chances. However, before he hung up, he had to make sure that these people were convinced. “I have Bård. And I have the proof of life, you will receive it by noon tomorrow. Don’t… don’t be deceived by others.” He began to hang up, but then he quickly added, “I wouldn’t want to have to hurt him.”

Dayo looked at the phone in his hand. Hopefully, they believed him. Turning away from the car, he ran and threw the phone as far out into the landscape as he could. Then he hopped into his vehicle, made U-turn and headed home.

* * *

Gabriel was lying on his bed, covering his ears. A few minutes ago he had heard Bård through the walls. At first it sounded like he was tussling with his handcuffs. Gabriel almost got up to see if they were caught on something or if he was having a bad dream and was confused, but the tussling quickly escalated into something that sounded more like a full scale battle. Gabriel could picture Bård pulling and kicking with all his might to get free. His voice soon joined in, adding shouts and groans to the physical war he was waging. What sounded like wild flailing continued for a few minutes before calming down, the shouts petered out, and the movements became sporadic, until Gabriel didn’t hear any sounds at all.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He understood that this wasn’t so much an attempted prison break as a person who was being pushed to the edge of his sanity, but part of him was afraid to go see what that looked like. Nevertheless, his urge to help Bård was stronger than his fear.

Water. He should get him water and maybe something comforting to eat, although he wasn’t sure what that might be. Before he stepped out into the hall he heard another sound. A crying so mournful that he couldn’t stand it. He had seen Bård cry before, but never like this. Gabriel could practically feel this cry in his own chest. He went back to his bed and hid under his pillow, hoping to muffle the sound.

Tentatively, Gabriel pulled the pillow off of his head. Everything was quiet now. He rolled over and looked up at his ceiling. What was he doing? How could he be a part of causing this kind of pain to anyone, much less Bård? He liked Bård.

Dayo hadn’t wanted him to like Bård.  He kept telling him, “Don’t worry about him.” “Don’t talk to him so much.” “He’s not your friend.” But he'd never understood why. Why shouldn’t he like Bård? Because Dayo didn’t want him to miss Bård when he was gone? That seemed silly. Because Dayo was trying to protect him? From what? No. It was something else. Dayo didn’t want him to like Bård because…. because it would be too hard to… too hard to… _Oh my God!_

Gabriel jumped out of bed and threw on his clothes. He slipped on some shoes and ran towards Bård’s room. Then he did a 180 and ran into Dayo’s room to rummage through his closet. He was relieved to see they were still there, an old pair of sneakers that Dayo had barely worn. Dayo had told him that he could have them when he grew into them. Gabriel grabbed the shoes and ran towards Bård’s room, checking his pockets as he ran. They were still there. The keys for the handcuffs were in his pockets. He opened the door and whispered as he approached. “Bård. Bård are you awake?”

“Yeah.” Bård’s answer sounded hollow.

“Hey. Here let me see your wrists.”

“They’re ok. It doesn’t matter.”

Gabriel turned on the lamp.  "No, I didn't come for..." He took one of Bård's wrists and gently pulled his arm away from his face. Now he could see the results of the violent struggle. "Oh, no. What did you do?" Bård's wrists were bruised and bloodied.

Bård opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. His wrists looked painful. They were obviously becoming swollen and the handcuffs now looked very tight. Gabriel unlocked his right hand and then the left. “I don’t have time to do anything about your wrists.” When Bård didn’t reply, he added, “We have to get you out of here.”

* * *

 

Dayo barely saw the road ahead of him, his mind was playing back the phone call. Every word he had said, every word and sound he’d heard on the other line. Had they believed him? Or were they going to pay Big Bosi? Why had he gone into Opi to make a print? This was his fault, he’d made a mess of it.

Dayo thought about that for a few miles. He wanted to blame someone for this mess, but it wasn’t his fault. Opi had been a good idea. Obviously, Big Bosi had thought so too. It wasn’t a mistake, he’d just been a victim of terribly poor timing. A coincidental meeting.

Dayo shook his head and cleared his mind. No matter. He was the one who had Bård. Whether they paid Big Bosi or not, he was the only one who could give them what they wanted. He just had to make sure that there were no more unfortunate coincidences and no more surprises.

As he neared his home, Dayo stopped for a minute to pick up a new newspaper. He wasn’t going to take any chances, his proof of life photo had to be less than a day old. He parked outside of a small 24-hour market and jogged inside.

“Hello, Dayo!”

“Hello, Mr. Abello!”

He had passed this market every day as he drove to and from their old camp. And he had stopped by this market many times a week for the past four years. Of course, never for a newspaper, until last night. And now, two days in a row? Would Mr. Abello think that was odd? No, he told himself. Not unless he acted odd.

He walked to the rack where the newspapers always sat. It was empty. “Mr. Abello. Uh… where are the newspapers?”

“Oh, you’re in luck! We just got the early edition of tomorrow’s paper.” Mr. Abello glanced at his watch and chuckled. “In a few minutes it will just be today’s paper.” Mr. Abello was a nice enough fellow. The man was probably old enough to be his grandfather and sometimes spoke to him as if he were.

“So, another paper. What is your sudden interest in current events?”

Dayo’s heart skipped a beat. Mr Abello had noticed. What was he supposed to say? Then he noticed the twinkle in the older man’s eyes. He was just being teased. Dayo chuckled nervously, “Just trying to become informed.” The change in his pocket jingled as he tried to pull out the correct change. It gave him time to rethink his response. “Actually, my little brother needs them for a school project”

“Ah, yes. How is your brother? Gabriel, right? I haven’t seen him in here for a while.”

“He’s fine. Everything is fine. He… works hard in school.”

“Oh. Good. I just worry about the two of you, now that your mama is gone.”

Dayo looked down.

“Maybe I shouldn’t mention such things, but you should know that there are still people around who care about you. You don’t have any grandparents either, do you?”

He could only shake his head.

“I didn’t think so. I went to school with your grandfather, Nobi. He was so smart.”

Dayo looked up. “Uh… thanks.”

“Oh, I’m just an old man talking. I’m sure you’re not interested. But I could tell you some stories about Nobi. He was quite the character.”

It surprised Dayo to realize that he actually would enjoy that. “I’d like that sometime. But I have to get going.”

_BringBrinnnng!_  The chime on the door announced the arrival of another shopper. Perhaps this customer would capture Mr. Abello’s attention, so that he could leave.

“Oh certainly. Let’s see… a newspaper. Nothing else?”

What was he thinking? Of course he should grab a few other things, otherwise it would appear that he’d only stopped for the newspaper. “Oh, yes. I needed rice. That’s the real reason I’m here. I also need  yams and bananas and okra.” Dayo left the counter and headed toward the fresh vegetables, finishing his sentence as he walked away.

In no time at all, Dayo returned to the counter with all the things he had mentioned, plus a couple more for good measure. “I got so distracted when I thought you were out of newspapers that I almost forgot the real reason I came in.” Dayo was a little out of breath from rushing around the small store so hurriedly, but he held up the bag of rice as if to prove his point. Mr. Abello gave him a smile and a nod and Dayo did his best to smile back.

“Mr. Abello.” The other customer was a couple of aisles away, but her eyes were visible above the top of the shelving. Where do you keep the coconut oil?”

“It should be right there on the bottom shelf.”

“I don’t see it.”

Mr. Abello sighed dramatically. “Excuse me, Dayo.”

Dayo watched as Mr. Abello walked away from him. What was he supposed to say, “No, I need to get home and take a new proof of life photo. I’m sort of in a rush.”?  He just had to be patient.

Mr. Abello returned to the counter. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok.”

Mr. Abello lowered his voice. “Yes, well, it was right there in front of her. Every time she comes in here, she makes me get out of my seat and run around helping her find things that are practically falling into her hands.”

“Maybe she has a crush on you.” Dayo giggled.

“Yes, thank you. That was my thought exactly.” Mr. Abello smiled broadly and winked.

“I… uh… sort of need to go.”

“Oh, yes. You said that.” Mr. Abello quickly rang Dayo’s items up. As he handed Dayo his receipt, he held out a couple of candy bars. “Now, don’t eat both of these. One of them is for your brother.”

“Ok. Yes, thank you.” Taking the items Dayo gave Mr. Abello a wave as he left and hurried to his car. When he closed the car door he closed his eyes and tried to relax. _I’m not in such a big hurry now. That was for the phone call. Everything’s alright, I just need to calm down. This didn’t delay me too much and what difference will a few minutes make anyway?_

* * *

“I don’t understand. According to you, neither one of these callers has given us a proper proof of life.” Vegard was sitting down

Tom sighed. “I know. You’re right. Neither one has provided that.”

“The first kidnapper…” Vegard rolled his eyes and began again, “K1 sent us Bård’s fingers. Doesn’t that make him more… I don’t know… believeable, I guess?”

“Honestly, no. Not to me. But you’re right. I don’t know for certain. None of us can know with the information we have. To me, the person who sent the fingers is less likely to actually have your brother. I think he would have sent a photo. When K2 called back and said he had been delayed, that felt more real to me.

“K2 isn’t the original person who was holding Bård. He may not have the resources - be that physical, financial, or human - that someone like K1 would have at his disposal. Even now, even after the extraction of so many of K1’s hostages and the loss of so many of his physical assets, it is likely that he has a great deal of money and a huge web of contacts who are willing to help him. Someone like that should have been able to get us a photo. Now K2… we don’t know about him. Most likely he has some connection to K1 but, we don’t know much else.”

“So why in the world would you trust K2 over K1?”

“Trust is a strong word.”

“Alright, why do you believe him?”

“It’s a gut feeling. I’ve been doing this job for a long time. But I’m not going to lie to you. The rescue operation has made gaining your brother’s release much more difficult. It's made the whole situation harder to predict.”

“But how would Bård have gotten into someone else’s hands? How could that be?”

“I don’t know. We believe, that he was already gone on the night of the rescue. Like I said, it would almost have to be someone who worked for K1 or someone who had a really close relationship with him, like maybe someone who delivered food or other supplies there regularly.”

Vegard didn’t feel convinced.

“It’s not that unusual for one of the kidnapper’s underlings to decide that he’d like a bigger slice of that ransom money.” Tom stopped and bit his lip nervously. He glanced at the clock on Ngozi’s wall and took a large breath in and then let it out before speaking again. “I understand that gut feelings and educated guesses are not what you want. And if I were you, those fingers would look way more convincing than anything I have to say. I’m just trying to give you my honest opinion. I will support you if you want to pay K1. I will make the drop. I’ll do whatever is necessary. I just want to get your brother back.”

Vegard looked at his hands. Feeling completely confused he looked to Calle for advice.

“I don’t know. I just got off the phone with Tor. He promised me that TVNorge would help come up with the money for another ransom if K1 doesn’t deliver. He said he doesn’t want money to be the deciding factor, but he isn’t sure how quickly they could get more money together. If K2 comes through with the photo, he’ll want payment right away and, obviously, we’d want to pay him as soon as possible.” Calle shrugged his shoulders, looking as lost as Vegard felt.

“What do you think, Mikael?”

Mikael looked up, surprised to have been asked. “It should be your decision, Vegard.”

“But what do you think?”

“I think I have to agree with Tom, K1 should have been able to send us a photo. But, the idea of not paying K1… it’s hard to feel confident about that.”

“Vegard, I hate this.” Tom spoke gently to him. “I know it’s a difficult decision and I don’t like having to rush you, but we need to decide now. Should we make the drop?”

* * *

 

“You’re helping me?”

Bård’s voice sounded so small, as if there was very little left of him.

“Yes. I’ve come to see … you were right.  I should have listened to you.”

Bård stared at Gabriel. He was having a difficult time comprehending this. “You’re helping me?”

“Yes, come on. I need you to move fast.”

With Gabriel’s help, Bård sat up. “Here can you put these clothes on?”

Bård nodded and took the clothes out of Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel ran out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He looked out the door and, seeing no one around, he stepped out and looked down the street. “Yes! Perfect!” Satisfied, Gabriel turned around and ran back to Bård’s room. The Norwegian had put the pants on and was pulling the shirt over his head.

“Now what?” Bård looked at him anxiously.

“Here, put these on.” Gabriel set the sneakers by Bård’s feet. “You’ve got to hurry, before Dayo gets home.”

Bård reached down and slipped the shoes onto his feet.

“Do they fit?”

“Yeah, they fit pretty well.”

“Good. Ok, come with me.” Gabriel hurried down the hall and into the small kitchen with Bård hobbling behind him, trying to keep up.

“Where are we going? How is this going to work?”

Gabriel was already standing at the door, as Bård hurried to join him.

“What do I do? I mean where should I go?”

Gabriel put his finger to his lips and put his other arm out indicating that Bård should stand back from the door. The teenager stuck his head out and looked around then opened the door all the way and motioned for Bård to follow him. They exited the house and began to hurry down the street. Gabriel continued to check over his shoulder every few seconds.

“But Gabriel, what do I do?” Bård was looking around too. He was surprised to see that this was a neighborhood, a very poor neighborhood, filled with small houses which were placed close together.

“Come here!”  Gabriel continued whispering as he walked up to a very old and beat up pickup truck. “You’re going to take this.”

“How?” Bård could still see Gabriel’s house, only four small houses away, he wasn’t sure how or why Gabriel was focusing on this vehicle.

“My friend Mobo lives here.”

“You’re helping me to steal your friend’s truck?”

“Yes. Well, more like borrow. You’re not going to keep it are you?” Gabriel snickered a bit. “Listen, this truck is pretty old and last year Mobo lost the keys.”

“There are no keys?”

“Right. So, he and his dad set it up so it would start without a key. Get in, I’ll start it for you.”

“Ok.”

When Bård was seated, Gabriel reached in and under the dash. The truck started right up.

“Gabriel. Maybe you should come with me. Dayo’s going to be really mad.”

“He won’t hurt me.”

The idea of leaving Gabriel behind worried Bård, and it probably showed on his face.

“He won’t. Besides, I’ll tell him you overpowered me or something. Now let me give you directions.”

* * *

 

It had been such a long, frustrating day. Dayo was happy that it was almost over. He pulled up to the corner and was about to turn onto his street, when he noticed something. Just down the block, there was someone outside that looked a lot like his brother. Dayo waited, not wanting to shine his headlights towards the truck until he was certain. The door to the truck opened and someone got in, but no lights turned on so he still wasn’t sure. When the door closed, Dayo got better look at the person who was still outside. It was Gabriel.

Dayo knew that vehicle. It belonged to the family of Gabriel’s best friend, Mobo. Not long after their mom died, his brother had started sneaking out at night with Mobo. Dayo didn’t know what to do about it and it was only an occasional thing, so he really hadn’t been too concerned about it. But tonight, as he watched his brother, he became irritated. What was Gabriel thinking? He was supposed to be watching Bård. Was he seriously going out for a joyride right now?

Gabriel was waving his arms around. What was his dorky brother doing now? Dayo watched him for a few more seconds before it hit him, his brother was giving directions. “Shit!” The car squealed around the corner and then, Dayo really stepped on the gas. The truck began backing up but, Dayo drove up over the curb and blocked it in.

Dayo heard his brother shout, “Run!”, before he’d even gotten out of his door.

Adrenaline took over and, Dayo flew out of the car in pursuit of his escaped prisoner. Bård was running toward the neighbor’s front door.

“Help!”

Dayo needed to make him shut up, before the neighbors got involved.

“Help!”

Dayo launched himself forward and tackled Bård, throwing them both to the ground. He landed on Bård’s back, which somewhat broke his fall. He got to his hands and knees, straddling the Norwegian and put his hand on Bård’s neck to keep him pressed to the ground. Looking around he located Gabriel, standing behind him looking to be almost frozen in place. He looked directly into his brother’s eyes and growled out an order. “Turn off the truck and move my car over by the house.”

His brother stared at him for a few beats before he wordlessly turned to obey.

* * *

In a split second Gabriel’s face had changed from urgent to terrified. Bård had thrown the truck into reverse, before the teenager had been able to form any words of warning. He’d only backed up a few feet however before he ran into Dayo’s car.  

Bård could hear Gabriel shouting, but he didn’t need to be told to run.  He was barely out of the car when he heard Dayo’s pounding feet approaching from behind. He wasn’t going to be able to outrun him. Bård made the split-second decision to go to one of neighbors.

“Help!” He’d only get one chance. He hoped they were home. “Help!”

He was surprised by how quickly Dayo caught up to him and threw him to the ground. Hitting the ground with Dayo on his back knocked all the air out of him. He couldn’t yell anymore. He couldn’t seem to get any air into his lungs at all. As he struggled to breathe, he felt his face being pushed down into what was mostly dirt and weeds. Dayo was talking, but Bård’s only concern at the moment was getting his lungs to work properly.

“I told you not to talk to him anymore. What did you say to get him to turn on me, huh?”

Bård wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or not. He was beginning to get some air in his lungs but not enough to reply, so he remained quiet.

“I should have let you melt in the back of my trunk!!”

Abruptly, his neck was released and he felt Dayo get off of his back. Bård rolled over to his side hoping to get a better breath.

“You are not going to ruin this for me!”

The words were accentuated by a kick to the ribs.

“I used to like you, but now I don’t care what the fuck happens to you.”

He felt another blow to his chest. For the moment, the pain of the assault was blocked by his desperation for air. He seemed to be losing air rather than gaining it with every gasp and wheeze. He couldn’t even make sense of anything that Dayo was saying now. Bård curled up into a ball and tried to protect his head and chest.

Dayo continued shouting and swearing, throwing in an additional kick now and then. The kicks were mostly landing on Bård’s forearms now, the pain of those strikes was becoming more real. Suddenly, Dayo’s voice sounded louder and Bård’s arms were pulled away from his head. As soon as Dayo let go of him, he tried to curl up for protection. His arms quickly shielded his head, but he received another jarring blow to his chest.

“Dayo… Dayo stop. Please….stop!”

“Shut up! I’m not listening to you anymore.”

“But…”

“I said, ‘Shut up!’”

Bård’s head was finally catching up to the pain of all those blows to his body. An involuntary moan escaped his lips.

“Get over here and help me!” Dayo hissed.

Bård wasn’t sure what he meant, but didn’t dare look for fear of provoking more punishment.

“I said, ‘Help me!!’”

Bård was jerked up to sitting and then pulled to his feet. The quick motion made him dizzy and caused him to throw up violently. When he had finished, he felt a hand on each arm, half guiding and half carrying him back into the house. Once inside, he was roughly deposited back onto the bed.

“Put his cuffs on!”

Bård felt a shaking hand take his arm and gently lock the cuffs. He looked up and saw Gabriel red eyed and terrified, reaching over him to attach the second cuff. It was odd to think that he could feel sorry for the boy. Gabriel had assisted his brother in holding him captive and had held him at gunpoint many times over the last few days. But Gabriel had also saved his life and tried to set him free.

“I’m sorry.” Gabriel barely whispered.

Bård could only imagine what might be in store for Gabriel. “Take the truck,” he whispered back.

“Alright! Now come here!” Dayo’s anger still coated his every word.

Gabriel squeezed Bård’s hand before turning to go.

Bård watched as Gabriel was pushed into the hall. Then his door was slammed shut and for a few minutes everything was quiet. Very quiet. The walls in this house were paper thin, but Bård heard no sound at all. When the talking began it rapidly escalated into shouting. It was all Dayo’s voice, shouting and then screaming at his brother. There was no second voice until Bård heard Gabriel start to cry out. As soon as the physical punishment began there was very little talking at all, just the sound of the younger brother being repeatedly slapped. Near the end it turned into something that sounded much rougher and then concluded with a loud thump on the wall. There was no crying or groaning, it was completely silent again. Bård could only imagine that Gabriel was unconscious, at best.

It wasn’t long before Dayo reentered the room. Bård expected him to look angry, but his expression was strangely unnerving. Dayo looked completely emotionless.

“Here.” Dayo handed him a new newspaper and jerked Bård up to a sitting position. He tried to swallow the painful groan that the movement provoked. Not wanting to be hit again, Bård held the newspaper properly, kept eyes open and looked into the camera.

After Dayo had taken four or five photos he pushed Bård back onto the bed. “Your friends had better pay me, otherwise I may have to follow Big Bosi’s example.”

“What?”

Dayo left without another word.

* * *

Across town, Big Bosi was seething. He’d sent two of his men to pick up the ransom. They’d even waited around for an extra half an hour, but no one made the drop. He had been stood up. When he was upset like this, it was best to leave him alone. His wife, Maris, seemed to understand that. She  had just gone to bed, saying that she hoped he would be over his foul mood by the morning.

He couldn’t sit down and he didn’t want to wake up his kids, so went outside, by the pool. It was a clear, calm night. The moon, combined with the pool lights, cast a soothing blue glow upon everything around him. He and his wife often sat out there at night, after the kids had gone to bed, just to relax. However, it didn’t seem to be doing the trick for him right now. He paced back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. There had to be some sort of retribution.

A buzzing sound, from inside his pocket, caught his attention. He pulled out the phone. “Yes! What is it?!?”

“Femi? This is Zeke.”

“Zeke. Why are you calling me at this time of night?”

“I’ve got some information… I managed to overhear something. It’s about one of your hostages.”

“I didn’t think either of their employers were working with the police.”

“No, they haven’t been. At least not much. Someone must have tipped them off, they don’t seem to trust us. But apparently the Norwegians called Detective Contee.”

“So…. Detective Contee told you this?”

“No, no, no.. He’s tight lipped about all his cases.”

“So what happened?”

“Mairo, the night-time switchboard operator, asked me to cover for her about an hour ago. While she was gone, a call came in. The man asked for Detective Contee and when I told him he wasn’t on duty this late, he said that Contee was expecting his call. That sounded fishy to me, so I transferred the call as a conference call, so that I could listen in. The man told Contee that the drop was off. They’d gotten a call from another kidnapper, and they were going to wait for his proof of life.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“I know. I thought that was odd too.”

Big Bosi was silent.

“Is there something you want me to do?”

“No, not right now. Thanks for calling, there will be a bonus for you.””

“Thank you Femi. I will do everything I can.

“I know you will, Zeke.” Just then an idea came to him. “Wait. Hold on. Zeke?”

“Yes?”

“I think there might be something I"ll need your help with. Stay by your phone.”

“Sure thing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sigh** Why does it take me so long to finish a chapter? Oh well... I don't think I have a faster gear. I'll just have to live with it.
> 
> I don't want to mislead you... I don't have the rest of this written and sometimes it ends up to be longer than I have anticipated... but I believe we may be getting close to some kind of resolution - after another chapter or two. And by "some kind of resolution" I do not mean that Bård will be "deployed", which I think could become the new tag for "major character death" in this fandom. (And I say that with a great deal of respect for the author whose work remains so vivid in so many people's minds after so much time. Quite an impressive feat!)
> 
> Anyway - thanks for following this and for all of your comments and kudos. <3


	24. Chapter 24

Vegard looked over at the bedside clock. 3:30 am. He’d gone to his room a couple hours ago out of necessity. He simply couldn’t listen to one more assurance that he’d made the best possible choice. They all meant well, perhaps they even believed what they were saying, but there was only one way he would know if he’d made the right choice.

 

He’d been lying on his bed since then worrying, and picturing his brother as he’d last seen him, lying on the floor of a basement cell. Sitting up he looked over at the small, blanket-covered mound in the corner. He hadn’t had the stomach to look at any of those things since he’d covered them up, but now he felt the urge to see some evidence that they had had a life before coming to Enugu.

 

He stood up slowly and hobbled across the room using only one crutch. Picking up the blanket, he paused and studied  the bags for a moment. It made his heart ache to see his brother’s things knowing that Bård wasn’t nearby.

 

Gently he picked up the backpack and sat down in the nearby rocking chair. The canvas of the bag was soft and worn. The zipper on the small outside pocket didn’t work anymore, but he knew that Bård had continued to keep important things in there anyway. Out of curiosity, he felt inside and pulled out the key to their hotel room in Enugu, from a few weeks ago. Huffing out a breath and shaking his head, he opened the backpack and went straight to the small inner pocket. What if it wasn’t there? He closed his eyes and slipped his hand into the pocket. Smiling, he pulled out the small bundle and began to look through it.

 

On top, were a number of photos. The first was a picture of the two of them at about 8 and 11. They were both giggling, probably because of some comment that Bård had made. Bård was glancing at Vegard in the photo, obviously enjoying his reaction. Proof that Bård had always liked an appreciative audience.

 

Next, was a photo of them on the set of I Kveld Med Ylvis. Vegard stared at the image for a bit. They were both so happy in that photo. He felt like he remembered that moment as being just after the taping of their first episode. Turning the photo over, he saw that the date - 19/9/11 - had been written on the back, confirming his suspicions. He remembered it clearly now.

 

*****

 

> _“Smile.” Hanne, their secretary, had been following them around for the last five minutes, insisting that she should take a photo of just the two of them together. They were in the middle of a post-taping meet-and-greet, but they finally gave in and posed for her. Not that they truly minded. Honestly, nothing could have upset them that evening._
> 
> _They'd made plans to go out with Calle and their staff that evening, so when Vegard noticed how late it was getting, he said goodbye to the last few fans and hurried off to change. He was a little surprised that Bård had already left the stage, but he soon found him standing in the hall, talking to a couple of fans who must have snuck past security and followed him back to the dressing room. Bård’s eyes silently screamed for help as he approached._
> 
> _“Hello. Have we met? I’m Vegard.” The girls giggled and gushed for a minute, and then he informed them that he and his brother needed to get going, and he politely, but firmly, sent them on their way._
> 
> _Once inside the dressing room they both started laughing. “What would you do without me, little brother?” Bård’s only response had been to smile and giggle some more._
> 
> _After Vegard had changed and was ready to go, he noticed that Bård was sitting across the room, leaning over the dressing table with a paper and pen. “Come on, Bård. Whatever it is can wait until morning.”_
> 
> _Bård finished hurriedly, sticking the paper into his pocket before jumping to his feet with a smile. “Alright! Lead on!”_
> 
> _Vegard was about to open the door when Bård grabbed his arm, turned him around and gave him a hug._
> 
> _“What was that for?”_
> 
> _“Just… just thanks.”_
> 
> _Vegard looked at his brother uncertainly. “For saving you from those two teenage girls?”_
> 
> _Bård shrugged and smiled and then took off down the hall to find the others._

*****

 

Vegard chuckled and set that photo aside. He smiled at the picture of their whole family from a couple of Christmases ago, and shook his head at the goofy shot of them standing in a canola field. He’d forgotten how much Bård liked that one. There were at least ten more photos, and each one brought back vivid memories. It was no surprise, but still, it struck him that so many of his best memories were ones that included his little brother.

 

Along with the photos were a few other items: playbills, ticket stubs, notes. Included with those was a short script of sorts that they had written and performed for their younger brother when Bjarte was only three years old, and the cover page from a script for a pilot that Bård had been offered, many years ago. Vegard winced a little at the memory of how he had reacted when he found out.

 

*****

 

> _"So, there was a message on our answering machine, I think it was for you."_
> 
> _“Oh? What was it?” Bård entered their small apartment and shook his head. Snow, in various stages of melting, flew in all directions._
> 
> _Vegard turned away from the door. In the hour and a half since he’d first heard the message, he still hadn’t come up with a good way to start this conversation. He could hear his brother stomping around the small entry removing his winter boots and hanging up his coat. Bård probably hadn’t guessed what the phone call had been about, but somehow his nonchalance was pissing Vegard off all the more. “They want to know what you thought of the script they sent you.”_
> 
> _Suddenly, Bård was still._
> 
> _Vegard waited for a few moments for some kind of response, some whiny apology or maybe some angry litany of grievances that had brought him to this point. The silence was more painful than any of the possible responses that he’d imagined. He turned back to face him. “Were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to wait until they gave you a contract?”_
> 
> _“Don’t be stupid.”_
> 
> _“You're going to do a TV show? Were you even going to tell me?”_
> 
> _“No! Of course not!”_
> 
> _“You weren’t going to tell me?!”_
> 
> _“No. I meant your other question.” Bård was obviously flustered. “I’m not doing that show.”_
> 
> _After Vegard had heard the phone message, and after he’d replayed it numerous times, he sat down on the couch and tried to make sense of it. What had he done, what had he said that had pushed Bård over the edge? He’d always worried about this happening. Bård hated arguing, so sometimes he’d go along with things, just to avoid a conflict. Even though Vegard enjoyed getting his way, he was afraid that eventually his brother would tire of it and tire of him._
> 
> _“So, what then? They just wanted your opinion on the script?”  Vegard's voice was dripping with sarcasm._
> 
> _“Ughhh! Why are you being like this?”_
> 
> _When the numbness had passed, anger took over. Anger and disbelief. Although to be honest, mostly he believed it, he just needed to see it for himself. So he’d gone into Bård’s small bedroom and searched, under his bed and through his drawers. He’d looked through his closet as well, with no luck (although he did find two sweaters that he’d been missing for a while.) And then he saw it, laying on Bård’s nightstand. Apparently, Bård thought so little of his feelings, that he hadn’t even tried to hide it!_
> 
> _“Well, I can't stop you from looking at different options, but you could have at least told me!”_
> 
> _“I'm not looking at different options. I wouldn't do that.”_
> 
> _“Oh really?” Vegard held the script up incredulously._
> 
> _“I wouldn’t! We're a team.” Bård made a half-hearted effort to snatch the script from his hand, but he moved too quickly._
> 
> _Vegard had read the script while he was waiting for his brother to return. **Brødrene er Merkelige Skapninger**. What a fitting title! It was to be a half hour sitcom and Vegard noted that the part of the oldest son had been highlighted in yellow. It would be sort of ironic if Bård dropped him only to become famous with some new TV family. Of course, that part he could live with. His brother was talented and if he wanted to take his career in a different direction, he couldn’t object. Could he?_
> 
> _“So then why did they send you a script?”_
> 
> _“I don't know. I can’t control what I get in the mail.”_
> 
> _Vegard threw the script across the room and turned his back to Bård. That was it. That was the part that was killing him. Bård hadn’t even told him. His brother couldn’t even be honest when the truth was right in front of him_
> 
> _The silence that followed was long enough that Vegard started to wonder if Bård was standing behind him anymore._
> 
> _“Vegard… they asked about me.” Bård’s voice was quiet now, maybe even nervous. “They were interested in **me**. It was… it was flattering.”_
> 
> _“So you **are** considering it.”_
> 
> _“No. I was just curious, I wanted to read it. But I wasn't ever going to do it, not without you. And I didn’t tell you because I thought you might … I don’t know...  get upset.”_
> 
> _That little twerp! He was not in the mood for his sarcasm! Vegard turned toward Bård, about to give him a piece of his mind. And he was prepared, that was one thing that he had figured out while he was waiting. But then he saw Bård’s hurt expression._
> 
> _“Don’t you trust me at all, Vegard?”_

*****

 

Vegard smiled sadly. _“Don’t you trust me at all?”_  That argument had to have been one of the dumbest ones they’d ever had. After they had talked about it a little more, he’d realized that he had overreacted and his anger had given way to embarrassment. Bård had never given him any reason to be so mistrustful of him.

 

Even after Vegard had apologised profusely, Bård had remained set on making sure that this kind of misunderstanding never happened again. So, Bård had ripped the cover off of the script and written a short contract at the bottom. Vegard remembered exactly what it said, but he read it again just the same.

 

_We, the undersigned, being partners in Ylvis, agree to refrain_

_from making major decisions and/or consenting to contracts_

_(verbally or by signature) without consulting with each other._

 

They’d both signed it and Bård had added the date: 26-1-03. Even now, reading the contract felt embarrassing. The truth was that he trusted his brother more than anyone else in the world and he regretted that he’d ever made Bård question that. Vegard ran his finger over his brother’s signature. He hadn't seen their “contract” very often since then, but often enough to know that Bård always kept it with him.  

 

He was about to refold the page when he noticed that there was an additional note written on the upper right-hand corner. He didn't remember seeing that before, but it was in Bård’s handwriting, he was sure of it. He turned the page sideways and read:

 

_Remember you're lucky,_

_you love doing this_ _with Vegard and_

 _you wouldn't be here_ _without him._

_19-9-11_

 

Vegard couldn’t read any more, his eyes were too filled with tears.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gabriel knew that it was time to get up. Bård probably needed to use the bathroom by now and he doubted that his brother had attended to that. But as soon as he got up, there would be no denying that last night’s nightmarish events had been real, so he pulled his pillow over his head and hugged it close to his ears, in a futile attempt to stop the new day from beginning.

 

He hadn’t managed to sleep at all last night. Instead, his mind had been set on reexamining his botched attempt at helping Bård. Everytime he ran through it, he ended up with the same pile of "should haves".

 

He should have known it was over as soon as he heard the squeal of his brother’s car. Then came the headlights. He should have told Bård to run right away, but he just stood mutely as the car ran up over the curb. Bård jumped out of the truck and began to run before he’d even managed to find his voice. That was when he should have done something. Maybe he could have slowed Dayo down enough so that Bård could have woken a neighbor, maybe he should have run to the neighbor’s house himself to ask for help, but neither of those things crossed his mind at the time.

 

And then Dayo told him to move the car and he did. He should have said no. Dayo couldn’t have contained both Bård and him at the same time. But in that moment, he felt like he had no choice but to obey. He should have known what would happen next, but somehow his brain hadn’t worked that out either. So he was shocked when he saw Dayo beating on Bård, kicking him repeatedly. And that was the moment, the moment his eyes were opened and any illusions he still held were shattered, the moment after which nothing would ever be the same.

 

Later, he woke up on the floor, in the dark, with no idea of how long he had been unconscious. He desperately wanted to check on Bård, but he didn’t dare leave his room, not even to retrieve an ice pack for his own eye. It was just as well. The bruises on his face would be a visual reminder of what his brother had become, in case his heart should try to convince his brain that none of it was real.  

 

“Get up!”

 

By the time he registered the muffled words and pulled the pillow off of his head, his brother was no longer in his doorway. He waited and watched, partly out of the same fear that had tied him to his room throughout the night, and partly out of curiosity. Would his brother would look any different today? Would he look like the monster that he had become?

 

“Gabriel…” Dayo returned to the doorway. “I need you to get up, we have to get going.”

 

Nope. Dayo looked exactly the same. It struck him as odd. If he didn’t know better, Dayo would have appeared to be the same older brother he had trusted and admired just a few days ago.

 

“Gabriel, are you awake? Say something. We need to get going.”

 

Dayo was speaking to him as if nothing unusual had happened. Almost as if it were just another day. Gabriel reached up to feel the swelling around his eye, just to make sure it was really there.

 

“Get up and get dressed. You can eat something quick before we go.”

 

“Before we go?” Gabriel’s question hung in the air. Dayo had already disappeared. The only way he'd get any answers, was to get up.

 

Gabriel walked quietly down the hall and, not seeing his brother, decided to check on Bård. When he entered the room Bård appeared to be asleep, but as he neared the bed, a pair of blue eyes wearily opened. It was clear that Bård hadn’t slept at all last night either. “Are you alright?” He whispered as softly as he could, hoping to have a least a few moments alone with Bård.

 

Bård didn’t seem to know what to say. He shook his head a little and then shrugged.

 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?”

 

After a moment Bård nodded.

 

Gabriel found the key and began to unlock his cuffs. “I’m so sorry… about last night... I should have… I didn’t know what to… I’m so sorry.”

 

When Gabriel reached over him to unlock his other wrist, Bård finally whispered a reply. “Gabriel, you need to get out of here. It’s not safe for you.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

At the sound of Dayo’s voice, Gabriel stiffened. He turned and saw his brother standing in the doorway. “Uh, he needs to use the bathroom.”

 

His brother’s only reply was his icy stare. For a moment, Gabriel was certain that Dayo would demand that he stop.

 

“Well, alright. But be quick about it.”

 

Concerned  that his brother might change his mind, Gabriel hurriedly got Bård to his feet and helped him down the hall to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he deposited Bård back onto his bed and then secured the cuffs around his wrists.

 

“Alright, now go eat something, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel exited without a word, but paused at the doorway long enough to see his brother double-checking the handcuffs. It wasn’t going to be easy to help Bård now. Gabriel stepped into the kitchen and tried to calm himself enough to remember how to make breakfast.

 

“We’ve got to get going.” Dayo was right on his heals.

 

“Don’t you need me to watch Bård?”

 

“He’ll have to take care of himself.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“You, don’t?! Have you forgotten last night?! I haven’t!” Dayo eyes narrowed as he spit out his angry reply.

 

“Can we at least talk about it?”

 

“No! I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t believe that you would turn on me, my own brother.”

 

“I didn’t turn on you, I just…”

 

“Shut up!” Dayo raised his hand but managed to stop himself before striking Gabriel. “I don’t want to hear it! Don’t you remember that you were the one who wanted me to get out of this life? It wasn’t that long ago, you must remember.”

 

“Of course, Dayo. I still…”

 

“You said you were worried about my safety. I don’t understand how you could shift your allegiances to him, someone you met only a few days ago.

 

“It’s not like that Dayo.”

 

“Yes, it is! Sometimes you’re such a child. How do you think I could leave that job without collecting his ransom? We’ll need money. We’ll need a lot of money.”

 

“I could get a job. It’s only fair. I’ll get a job to support us and you can go to school.”

 

Dayo snickered dismissively. “You wouldn’t be able to get a job that pays enough to support us, much less one that could pay for my schooling. Are you really that ignorant? Why do you think I’ve been working for Big Bosi? Look, I’m not going to explain it again, just eat something. You’re coming with me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The drive into town was awkwardly silent. Gabriel watched his brother out of the corner of his eye. Dayo’s face was tense, but otherwise emotionless.

 

He wasn’t sure if he’d expected an apology this morning, but in any case he shouldn’t have. Obviously, his brother thought that he was the one in the wrong. He could almost see Dayo’s point. He had wanted Dayo to get away from Big Bosi. He must have known that there would be a price to pay for his freedom. His actions last night could have ruined that for Dayo. Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder if Dayo would ever forgive him.

 

He reran those last thoughts through his head. That was ridiculous! There had to be another way. People who could help them. Something. There was no excuse for what Dayo was doing to Bård… much less for what he believed his brother was about to do to the Norwegian. Gabriel shuddered at the thought. He wondered, if that actually came to pass, if he’d ever be able to forgive Dayo.

 

When they turned off the main road and headed into Opi, Gabriel was surprised. He had assumed they were heading for the much larger city of Nsukka. Opi only had a population of 10,000 people or so, whereas Nsukka’s population was well over 1,000,000. It seemed to him that if someone wanted to do something dishonest or, let’s face it, criminal, they would want to go somewhere like Nsukka. It was large enough that you could walk around and feel almost invisible.

 

However, Dayo seemed to know exactly where he was headed. He drove straight to the small business district, slowing down in front of the print shop. It didn’t appear to be open yet, but rather than parking, Dayo chose to drive around in circles for the next ten minutes. As he drove he looked around with great interest - as if he were searching for a lost dog. Gabriel didn't understand it at first, but then he realized that Dayo was looking around for people, people that he didn’t want to see. When Dayo seemed satisfied that it was safe, he parked the car, turned it off and sat silently. Gabriel was beginning to wonder if this silence was to be his life from now on, but eventually his brother spoke.

 

“We are going to the print shop to make a print of the photo I took of Bård. I’m not really sure what to do with you.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I don’t trust you.”

 

The words were blunt, and although Gabriel understood, they felt unfair. “Dayo, I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Dayo studied him, his face remaining stoic. Finally he answered, “No, I know you don’t. But you seem to have some odd ideas about what will and won’t hurt me.”

 

“It’s just…”

 

“We don’t have time. I’m going to bring you with me. Don’t say anything to anyone. Do you hear me?”

 

“Yes.” Gabriel’s voice was barely a whisper.

 

“What if someone says ‘hello’ to you?”

 

“Do I say ‘hello’ back?”

 

“No! You say nothing. Nod or shake your head if you must. Do you understand?”

 

Gabriel opened his mouth to answer but quickly closed it and simply nodded.

 

 

* * *

 

 

By the time they returned to the car, Gabriel felt like he was about to burst. He’d never had such an urge to talk as he had just experience in the last few minutes. It seemed that being ordered to hold his tongue had increased his desire to communicate ten-fold.

 

When their doors were closed and the car had started, Gabriel took a chance at asking a question. “Who was he? I mean, he seemed to know you.”

 

“He doesn’t know me. I suppose he’s seen me before with Big Bosi, but he doesn’t know me.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Thank you for staying quiet.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“I didn’t want you to say my name or anything.”

 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You might have wanted to mention _that_ before we went in.”

 

“I thought ‘ _don’t say ANYTHING_ ’ pretty much covered my name as well.” Dayo snapped back.

 

“Yes, well luckily it did!” Gabriel retorted, unapologetically.  

 

They turned back onto the main road and drove back toward Enugu in silence. Gabriel stared out his window. Anger was quickly replacing the fear that he’d woken up with.

 

“I don’t want to argue with you, Gabriel. You did as I asked, and I know it was awkward when he asked you about your eye.”

 

“Yeah. Well, that would have been too awkward to explain anyway.” Gabriel rolled his eyes again, as he remembered the story his brother had offered as an explanation. Dayo told the man that Gabriel had walked into a door. It was ridiculous! If the man at the printshop was stupid enough to believe that, he’d believe anything.

 

“I suppose you’re mad at me.”

 

Gabriel crossed his arms and looked out the window. He hated this. He hated that Dayo didn’t see anything wrong with any of his actions. Gabriel shrugged a little and then nodded. It was pointless to lie.

 

“Maybe you’ll understand one day.” Dayo sighed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Half an hour later they were in Ngwo, a town about twenty minutes to the west of Enugu. Big Bosi used a number of different courier services to initiate the proof of life deliveries. Most of them were in Enugu, but Dayo had been to this one a number of times before and preferred to stay outside of Enugu if possible.

 

“Alright. All you need to do is take this package over there.” Dayo pointed to a building that was less than half a block away from where he had parked. The large sign over the door was faded and peeling, it read _Red Star Express Fedex Place_.

 

“The Red Star Express?”

 

Dayo noted that his brother sounded nervous. “Yes. And ask for Zinwa.”

 

Gabriel looked doubtful. “Are you sure you can’t do this?”

 

“I think it’s better if Zinwa doesn’t see me, just in case it would get back to Big Bosi.”

 

“And Zinwa will know what to do?”

 

“Yes. Give him this envelope. There is money inside and a note that will explain everything.”

 

“Ok.” Gabriel nervously turned the envelope over and over in his hands. “What if it isn’t enough money?”

 

“It is enough money.”

 

“But what if it’s not?”

 

“Then just tell him that it’s all you have. I don’t know. Convince him somehow.”

 

Gabriel let that sink in. He wondered what happened if Zinwa wasn’t convinced. What if Zinwa thought he was a spy for the police? He decided that he really didn’t want to know.

 

When Gabriel didn’t respond, Dayo continued. “Now, just listen. Before you hand him anything, make sure that you tell him you want to go to the green room to discuss everything.”

 

“The green room?”

 

“It’s not the color… well I guess it is the color of the room, but it’s more like a code.”

 

“Oh, like in a spy movie.”

 

“Listen, Gabriel. This is serious. You can’t play around with this. It’s important that you do what I tell you to do and nothing more. When he takes you back to the green room, hand him the note. He shouldn’t have any questions, but wait until he tells you that you can go.”

 

“Alright. This Zinwa… he won’t hurt me, will he?”

 

“No. If you do what I tell you to do, he won’t. We want it to look just like every other time he’s been hired to do this, ok?”

 

“Ok. I won’t let you down Dayo.”

 

“I know you won’t.” Dayo watched his little brother open the door and begin to get out. They were so close to the money now, Gabriel couldn’t ruin it for them. Dayo grabbed his brother’s arm and held it tightly, waiting to speak until Gabriel turned to face him.

 

“Gabriel, it would be a mistake to tell anyone else in there that we’re holding Bård hostage. Zinwa would have to kill them, and I don’t know what he’d do to you.”

 

His brother nodded wordlessly and exited the car. Dayo had seen the frightened look in his brother’s eyes and it hurt to think that Gabriel was afraid of him now. But Dayo was the big brother, he had to look at the bigger picture. When this was over, his brother would understand.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Good morning. May I help you?” The young woman at the counter had short hair and a pink shirt that matched the color of her eyeshadow and lipstick.

 

Gabriel felt his heart racing. “Uh, yes. I need to speak to Zinwa.”

 

“He’s busy. May I help you?” The woman in pink smiled and waited for him to place an order.

 

Surprisingly, it hadn’t even occurred to him that his request might be denied. Gabriel thought for a moment. What would Dayo do?

 

“Oh. I’m sure you could help me, but my mom insisted that I ask for Zinwa. You know how moms are.”

 

The young woman behind the counter tilted her head slightly and nodded.

 

“I guess my mom always talks to Zinwa. I don’t want to make her mad.” In a moment of inspiration, Gabriel pointed to his new black eye and then bit his lower lip slightly as if he knew only too well what the consequences would be if he were to mess up.

 

“Alright. Zinwa is in the back, I’ll go get him.” The young woman disappeared through a curtain into the back of the store.

 

Gabriel let go of a small sigh of relief. He was fairly certain that the woman didn’t feel like anything odd was going on. All that was left was to speak to Zinwa, then he could get out of there.

 

The curtain parted and out stepped a large man, dressed in black. “Yes? I’m Zinwa.”

 

Gabriel was somewhat overwhelmed and found himself speechless.

 

“You asked for me?”

 

Zinwa’s voice was deep and booming, which only added to Gabriel’s anxiety.

 

“Uh… yes. I need to talk to you. I mean I would like to ask you...” Gabriel felt as if he was falling apart. He couldn’t remember what to say, or what he’d already said. If he'd had the choice, he would have turned around and run away at that particular moment. But that was not an option, so took another big breath and tried to pull himself together.

 

“Would you... “ Gabriel felt as if his mouth were a desert. “Could we please discuss this in the green room?”

 

“The green room?” Zinwa sounded more than a little surprised.

 

“Yes. That is where we should talk.”

 

Zinwa’s expression changed and he ushered Gabriel through the curtain and all the way down the hall. As they neared the end of the hall, Zinwa slipped in front of him and opened last door on the right. Gabriel stepped into the green room with Zinwa following closely behind him. When he was in the center of the room, he turned around just as Zinwa closed and locked the door. There was no turning back now.

 

“I don’t recognize you. Who sent you?”

 

Gabriel felt like he was caught red handed. He searched his mind for any instructions Dayo had given him about this question. A question which at this moment seemed very foreseeable. _“Zinwa is someone I’ve spoken to a number of times. He is accustomed to these requests from Big Bosi. Just act like you belong there, everything will be ok.”_   

 

“Big Bosi sent me.” Gabriel licked his lips and shifted his feet. Zinwa looked at him a little sceptically. “You know about the incident last week? There have been some shifts in personnel.” Zinwa's face was impossible to read. “We had a few casualties, you know.”

 

“Yes. I did hear that. So, you are a new recruit?”

 

“No! Of course not! I don’t think Big Bosi trusts them enough for something like this.”

 

Zinwa continued to silently study his face. Seeing no way out of the situation, Gabriel stood still and held his breath. When they silence got too uncomfortable, he interjected, “Of course, I haven’t been here before, but I’ve handled this job many times in the past.”

 

Gabriel was suddenly extremely aware of how he was standing and the way his free arm was hanging at his side. Nothing felt comfortable or natural. He stuck his hand into his pocket just to give it something to do. His mouth felt like it was locked into an expression that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

 

Just when he was afraid that he was about to melt into a puddle on the floor, Zinwa broke into a big smile. “Alright. I just had to make sure. I value your boss’s business, I needed to make sure you checked out.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

This morning when he woke up, he felt just as angry at his brother as he had the night before. How could Gabriel even think of doing that to him? Even when he first saw the swelling on Gabriel’s face, he had felt no remorse. What he had done to Gabriel was _nothing_ in comparison to what Big Bosi would do to both of them if the truth of Bård’s “escape” ever came out.

 

Still, Gabriel was his little brother. Dayo loved him and he honestly didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. So, as soon as Gabriel had entered the Red Star Express, Dayo began to rethink his choice. He told himself that Gabriel was smart and could handle this, but he was afraid of all the things that were outside of Gabriel’s control. If Zinwa suspected something, he could easily call Big Bosi and ask. Dayo couldn’t imagine why that hadn’t occurred to him before he sent his little brother in there, but it hadn’t. And if Big Bosi told Zinwa that Gabriel hadn’t been sent by him, what would happen next?

 

The urge to follow Gabriel into the courier’s storefront was overwhelming. He was not going to let them hurt his brother. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that whenever he’d gone there with another guard, they’d entered together. It would have looked strange for him to enter now, and that would almost certainly put Gabriel in danger. It took all of his willpower to wait in the car for Gabriel to return. He told himself that he was going to wait for fifteen minutes. If Gabriel hadn’t returned by then, he was going in.

 

Thirteen minutes had gone by when Dayo saw his brother step back out onto the street. He took a deep breath and was surprised to realize that he hadn’t taken one for a while. Gabriel stayed on his side of the road and walked at a normal pace, just as Dayo had instructed him to do, until he was directly across from the car. Then  he sort of jogged across the street and to the passenger door.

 

Once Gabriel was inside the car, Dayo could see that he was shaken. He held his tongue and allowed Gabriel to catch his breath, until he couldn’t wait any longer. “Are you ok?”

 

“Yeah. I did it.”

 

“What took so long?”

 

“I don’t know. I had to convince the girl to let me see Zinwa, and then I had to convince Zinwa that I worked for Big Bosi. I’m so glad that’s over!”

 

Dayo smiled with relief. “But you’re ok?”

 

Looking a bit relieved himself, Gabriel nodded.

 

“The girl didn’t want you to talk to Zinwa?”

 

“She said he was busy. But I told her that my mom would hit me again if I placed the order with someone else.”

 

Dayo looked at his brother’s face. That was his fault. Now that his anger was subsiding, he did regret carrying out such a severe punishment. “I am sorry about your eye, Gabriel.”

 

Gabriel nodded. “Can we go home now?”

 

“Sure.” Dayo glanced at the clock. It was 10:30 am. He had some time to kill while he waited for the proof of life to be delivered. “If you really want to.” Might as well make Gabriel feel like he’s getting his way on something. Dayo took one last look around for anyone who looked at all familiar, and then he pulled away from the curb.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I am well into the next chapter, if that's any consolation. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your support! <3<3


	25. Chapter 25

Vegard ripped open the envelope and pulled out the photo. His eyes were immediately drawn to his brother’s face. Bård’s eye was bruised and swollen and there appeared to be fresh blood under his nose and an abrasion on his right cheek that looked raw.

 

“They want to exchange him for the same amount that K1 asked for. This person must be quite close to K1 to have gotten his hands on that information.”

 

He glanced up from the photo just long enough to see that Tom was holding a letter. In his haste to see the photo, Vegard hadn’t noticed that there was something else in the envelope. He wanted to see the letter for himself but, for the moment, his priority was the photo.

 

It had been so many weeks since he’d seen Bård and he desperately wanted to know what his brother had been going through. The image in front of him was definitely that of his brother, although the gaunt and beaten man in the photo wasn’t the open, relaxed little brother that he knew. There was a hint of distress in Bård’s eyes, but for the most part his face was blank.

 

_It’s important not to appear weak in front of your captors_. Had he said that to Bård? Vegard was pretty sure that he had. He thought it odd that he’d never stopped to consider what hiding one’s fears and desperation might look like on someone’s face. It was almost physically painful to see that steely expression on Bård’s face.

 

“Vegard.” Tom put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to his eye level. “This is good news. He’s alive.”

 

It was difficult to look at this photo and describe it as “good news”, but Vegard knew what Tom meant and nodded.

 

“May I look at the photo for a few moments? There may be some clues.”

 

Silently, he parted with the photo.

 

Tom's expression remained unchanged as he took in the image. “This isn’t where you were first being held, is it?”

 

Vegard shook his head.

 

“It looks like someone’s house.” Tom’s eyes slowly swept over the photo, this time allowing himself to study the details more closely, but still keeping his thoughts to himself. “That _is_ today’s paper, this picture must have been taken within the last few hours.”

 

Calle snuck a look over Tom’s shoulder to get his first view of Bård in weeks. “Those bastards have him chained to the bed!”

 

“Um hmm. I would guess he’s being held at the kidnapper’s home. Most likely, K2 can’t lock Bård into a bedroom securely enough to keep him there, so he chained him down.

 

“So this person isn’t a professional kidnapper?”

 

“Hard to say, Calle. Seeing that Bård is locked up in cuffs, rather than being tied down with ropes, I would say this person has a certain level of experience. He may even have stolen the handcuffs he's using from K1.” Tom looked up and, recognizing that he was monopolizing the photo, handed it back. “Here, Vegard.”

 

It was only a photo, but it was tangible proof that Bård was still alive and having it back in his hands was reassuring.

 

“We’ve got to stay positive. He’s alive. In my experience, a photo like this means that he’s very close to being released. Hopefully he recognises that.”

 

There was a practiced tone to Tom's words. This was his job after all. He knew what to say and how to say it. Vegard only hoped that he meant most of it. The fact that they’d sent a photo was a hopeful sign, he supposed that Bård might see it that way. Vegard searched his brother’s eyes once more. What _was_ Bård thinking? There was something on his brother’s mind, but Vegard couldn’t quite figure it out. He only knew that it wasn’t excitement over his imminent release.

 

Calle sat down. “So, this is a good thing, right? I mean, this person wouldn’t want to keep Bård at their own house any longer than necessary, would they?”

 

Tom took his time before answering Calle’s question. In the short time that Vegard had known Tom, he’d come to dread his silent pauses most of all.

 

“I don’t know if it’s exactly good.” Tom replied.

 

As Vegard examined the photo, his brother’s situation was beginning to sink in. It did look like Bård was in someone’s home. The implications of this new information made his stomach drop.

 

Vegard exchanged a long look with Tom. “Just say it.”

 

Tom sighed heavily. “The kidnapper probably doesn’t want Bård to be able to identify his house or family members.”

 

Calle looked shocked. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

 

Vegard answered quietly, “They may prefer to kill him, Calle.” He turned back to the photo and it became clear, Bård was thinking the same thing.

 

* * *

 

Just yesterday, everything seemed to be running to plan. Construction on his new office was moving along, his young guards seemed to be staying in line, and he was certain that he’d soon have enough money coming in to make his new camp better and more modern than the last. Big Bosi stood just inside the entrance of his tent and watched his guards go about their duties with one question on his mind: Which one had betrayed him?

 

Last night, he decided to send Zeke to the same small house where, just the night before, he’d sent what he had hoped would pass for a proof of life. Zeke was to monitor the comings and goings and, hopefully, get a line on whoever was making a play for this ransom. When the package finally arrived, Zeke waited until the courier had driven a few blocks from the house before stopping him. Frustratingly, neither the courier, nor his manager back at the office, knew anything about the origin of the envelope.

 

Big Bosi thought he’d hit a dead-end, but fortunately Zeke looked at the situation as a clue. Whoever was behind this, was using Big Bosi’s methods. Zeke thought that the person was almost certainly someone who worked for Big Bosi and, if that was true, it followed that they might be using his contacts as well.

 

At first, Big Bosi dismissed the idea. He’d spent years building his list of tightlipped, reliable service providers. He was certain that they would have called him if they had seen anything suspicious. However, having no better ideas, he provided Zeke with his list of couriers. By the end of the afternoon, Zeke called him with the name: Zinwa.

 

Big Bosi rolled his eyes and began to pace inside his tent. Zinwa was his cousin’s son and, although he was 32, Big Bosi still thought of him as a boy. Zinwa always did as he was told, but he wasn’t the brightest. His most recent conversation with Zinwa had proven just that.

 

Big Bosi sat down at the table which currently passed for a desk and put his head into his hands. Zinwa hadn’t recognized the person who initiated the delivery, and yet he’d gone ahead without calling Big Bosi to verify. And Zinwa hadn’t been of much help in trying to identify the culprit  either. His description of a thin teenaged boy, could fit 90% of Big Bosi’s guards. Zinwa had screwed up, but there was little to be gained by punishing him.

 

Besides, his first priority was to find the real perpetrator of this little treachery. Zeke was right, it had to be someone who worked for him, but who? Who had a grudge against him? Which one of his trusted employees was discontent? He paid his guards well, much more than they would be paid in town. He scanned his list of guards again, as he had been doing all afternoon.

 

It was not lost on him that whoever was asking for the Norwegian’s ransom, probably actually had him in their possession. It had been foolish of him to assume that Bård had simply been unable to make it back to town. And, if they had Bård in their possession, they must have stolen him from the drop site.

 

Big Bosi could not let that kind of betrayal go unpunished.

 

* * *

 

Bård lay still, his eyes pointed at the ceiling, but not really seeing anything. It was going to happen sometime in the next few hours. Dayo would come into the bedroom, unlock his wrists and march him at gunpoint toward the door. He had known this was coming, he had figured it out a few days ago. Still, who could blame him for holding out hope for a different ending?

 

He had been so close last night. So close. But “close” only led him straight back to this room. He thought about the failed escape, over and over,  looking for where he’d screwed up. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for directions. If he’d just immediately taken off, or if he hadn’t tried to convince Gabriel to come with him, or if he hadn’t given up so quickly when Dayo blocked his car, maybe he _wouldn’t.. still.. be.. **here**_.

 

Out of frustration, he yanked on his handcuffs. He regretted that move almost immediately, as the cut on his left wrist started bleeding again and a pain shot up his right arm. Served him right. He could imagine what Vegard would have said about him wasting his time with that kind of thinking. “No reason to sit around worrying about your imminent demise.” Bård snorted. Obviously, Vegard had never said _that_ to him, but he could almost imagine him saying it. The thought of his brother’s ever-present pragmatism made him smile.

 

With a sigh, he tried to get his thoughts back on track. He had to make another escape attempt, that was where his mind should be. He’d been thinking it over since last night. As soon as his wrists were unlocked, he would try to grab Dayo’s gun. That seemed to be his best shot. It was unlikely that he would be able to overpower Dayo in his current condition so, If he were to have any chance of escape, he would need to get Dayo’s gun. He wished there were some other way, or that he at least had a plan B, but there was no more time. He needed to go on the offense. After all, it would be better to go down fighting than to just allow Dayo to kill him. Bård decided to stay awake and try to be prepared.

 

* * *

 

 

The person on the other end of the line hung up the phone in Big Bosi’s ear. Angrily, he walked back and forth in his tent. The new signal booster he’d gotten today made it much easier to communicate with those outside of the camp, his phone hadn’t dropped a call all day. For the most part that was a huge improvement, although he wished that has last call hadn’t been quite so clear. His wife was irritated that he was going to be working late again this evening. He would have thought that Marin would be more understanding, after all she appreciated the lifestyle that his “profession” provided. If she only understood all the pressure he was under.

 

He stood at the entrance of his tent and sighed. The camp was peaceful in the nighttime. At least it would be if some of his younger guards would stop their horseplay. Big Bosi checked his watch again. It was 10:30 pm. They were set to collect the ransom for the Germans tonight. He was sending his two most trusted men to collect the ransom. Sending two people on that kind of mission kept everyone “honest”, so to speak. They were much less likely to run off with the money or to skim off the top. Normally, that would have been all he needed to feel secure, but tonight he was sending Zeke to monitor the operation covertly. He was still a little anxious, even with all that in place, but he knew he’d done all he could do. 

 

His phone began to vibrate. He checked the caller ID, but couldn’t quite place the phone number. “Hello?”

 

“Hello, Femi. Sorry to call you so late.”

 

He was surprised to hear his friend, Abram, from the print shop in Opi. “That’s alright, Abram. What’s up?”

 

“Well, I’ve been bothered all day. I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, but I just can’t shake it. It’s just this feeling I’ve got, you know?”

 

“Abram, start at the beginning.”

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Bård heard footsteps coming down the hall.

 

“Sit up!”

 

He lay still and felt fear swelling around him. It would have been easy to give in to the fear in that moment, but he took a deep steadying breath and decided to get on with it. _Stick to the plan, be submissive, and then surprise him._

 

“I said ‘sit up’!”

 

Bård struggled to sit, every muscle in his abdomen bruised and stiff. He looked at his captor. It was strange to think that, at one time, he had almost considered Dayo to be his friend.

 

“We have to get going.”

 

Only a few days ago, Dayo had woken him up in a similar way, saying similar words. And then shoved him into a trunk like an animal. Actually, worse. Who’d do that to an animal? Suddenly, Bård emotions got the better of him and he spoke under his breath, "Why? Are you going to 'help' me again?"

 

"Shut up!!" Dayo slapped him hard across his face.

 

Bård hung his head waiting for the sharpness of the pain to pass.

 

“What? No more smart comments?”

 

Why had he done that? He couldn’t be so foolish again. He shook his head apologetically.

 

“Alright, good.” Putting his hand behind his back, Dayo slipped the gun into his pants and then bent down and unlocked one of Bård’s cuffs.

 

Still hanging his head submissively, Bård watched Dayo’s movements through the veil of his own hair.  As soon as both of his hands were free he’d make a move, before Dayo could take control of his gun again.

 

“Here. You get the other one.”

 

As if reading his mind, Dayo tossed the key onto his lap and stepped back. Bård stared at the key for a moment. _No! Now what?_ His heart was racing. _Stay strong._ Slowly, he unlocked the other cuff. He focused on his breathing to calm himself. There would be another opportunity, he just had to calm down.

 

He got to his feet and, and when Dayo motioned with the muzzle of his gun, he limped toward the door with Dayo following a few feet behind. He was still dressed in the dirty and bloodied clothes that he’d been wearing the night before. The wound on his foot had split wide open again after his attempt at running on it. Dayo didn’t offer him any shoes for this journey. Perhaps his captor figured that it would be harder for him to run that way, but Bård thought that Dayo was just punishing him for last night. Either way, each step he took was painful.

 

Every light in the house was off, but the moonlight was casting its cool glow into the kitchen. Bård’s eyes scanned the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. A heavy pan sat on the stove, its handle turned toward him, as if encouraging him to use it. In one smooth motion he grabbed the pan and swung it back, hitting Dayo on the arm. He put as much energy as he could into that blow, so much so that when the pan made contact, it slipped from his grasp and flew across the room, loudly clattering before slowly wobbling to rest. Bård could only assume that Dayo’s gun had fallen too, because the next thing he knew, Dayo was attacking him with both hands. They struggled for a few seconds before Dayo pushed him roughly, sending him stumbling backwards. He fell to the floor hitting his back against the cupboards. He thought for sure that Dayo would use this opportunity to grab his gun, but he didn’t. Maybe his captor didn’t know where it had ended up any more than he did.

 

In the dim light, Bård again scanned the kitchen for some kind of weapon or some means of escape. As his eyes swept the room, a glimmer in the dark caught his attention and drew his eyes back toward the door. Staring into the dark corner, he began to perceive the outline of a man standing in the shadows, the barrel of his gun glimmering from the light of the moon.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.” Tom was doing a final check of his gun and his equipment.

 

Vegard huffed from the back seat. “Well, Hirschfield, you did put up a good fight.”

 

“That’s one thing I have to say about you Ylvisåkers, when you grab hold of an idea, you really put your teeth into the thing, like little terrier dogs, and just shake it, shake it, shake it until it submits.” Calle’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

 

“Calle, I think they do that to break a small animal’s neck.”

 

“Luckily, most of your staff is made of sturdier stuff.” Calle felt his neck as if he’d forgot how big it was.

 

“And you, Calle… why are you here?” Tom looked up from his bag appearing puzzled, as if Calle had just teleported into the driver’s seat.

 

“Because I have a sparkling personality and a face you just can’t say ‘no’ to?”

 

Despite the palpable tension in the car, Tom snickered and smiled. “This is highly irregular.”

 

“Well, considering your current company, I think that’s only fitting.”

 

Vegard puffed out a small laugh. He was grateful that Tom had agreed to let Calle accompany them. It would have been even more difficult to do this without him.

 

Tom turned in his seat and looked back and forth between Calle and Vegard. “Alright. This is the deal. You two stay in the car no matter what.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t need someone to go with you?”

 

“More people usually equals more problems, Calle. If more than one person brings the ransom it will make the kidnappers nervous. I really think I’m safer doing this on my own. And remember, Detective Contee is here as well. He’ll provide the backup if necessary. If any shots are fired, your job is to call the police and duck down.”

 

“Call and duck, check. I don’t see him.” Calle squinted in the direction of the unlit market.

 

Vegard couldn’t see the detective’s car either, although Calle had a much better view from the driver’s seat.

 

“Well, you can’t see him from here. He’s parked on the west side of the market, just on the other side of the food court. He’ll have a good view of me when I drop off the ransom.”

 

Vegard looked out the window. The market place looked much different than it had a few weeks ago when it was full of shoppers and vendors. Even so, Vegard could easily picture his brother bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet as he waited for his first scene.

 

“You’ll drop it off, and then you’ll come straight back.” They’d gone over the plan already, but it seemed to calm Calle to go through it again.

 

“That’s the plan,” Tom answered patiently.

 

Vegard’s mind wandered. Everything about that morning, the last morning they’d had before this nightmare began, was coming back to him. It had been a beautiful day. A great day to film. And, even with such a small part, Bård had been so excited. Just happy to be experiencing something new. Just happy… Suddenly, Vegard was struck with a feeling of distress which was so sharp and strong that a small moan slipped past his lips.

 

“Are you alright back there, Vegard?”

 

Vegard returned to the present and met Tom’s eyes. “Yes. Call and duck.” He wasn’t sure where that feeling had come from, but it wasn’t going away. Something was wrong. Something bad had happened.

 

Tom nodded and got out of the car.

 

Vegard watched as Tom walked down the street toward the market. In less than a minute, he was out of sight. “It’s not even a quarter to midnight yet.”

 

“Yes, but he said it’s best to put it out there a bit early. He said, ‘Crowding the kidnappers can make them jumpy.’ ”

 

Vegard could hardly sit still. He had no control over the situation and now he couldn’t even observe what was happening. “I don’t like this. I wish we could see him.”

 

Calle turned around in his seat. “We have to trust him. He’s done this before. This was his plan… well, except for you and me being here… so…” Calle was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. “Oh! Oh, right. Hello?............Yes, detective, let me put this on speaker so Vegard can hear.”

 

_“I can see him now. Hirschfield is approaching the location they specified.”_ Contee fell silent.

 

“Is anyone else around?”, Vegard prompted.

 

_“I’ve been here for an hour, I haven’t seen anyone enter the market from this direction. But you can be sure that the kidnappers are near.”_

 

Vegard tried to will the detective into giving a more complete description, but Contee held his tongue until he felt he had something to say.

 

_“Alright. He’s set it down and he’s walking back toward you. It shouldn’t be long before the kidnappers show up. Let me know when you see him.”_

 

Then Contee fell silent again, which only seemed to feed Vegard’s growing anxiety. “How soon will they come?”

 

_“They’ll get here when they get here. We can’t control that. Just let me know when Hirschfield comes back into view.”_

 

* * *

  

The shadowy figure switched the lights on. “Going somewhere?”

 

Bård could now identify the man with the gun. He’d only seen him once before, and briefly at that, but Bård recognized him immediately. It was the man from the day of the kidnapping. The one who had been in charge. It was Big Bosi.

 

“Uh…. Uh ummm… wh.. what are you d.. doing here?” Dayo stuttered in surprise.

 

“Dayo, I’m disappointed in you. I’d have thought that you could figure that out.”

 

Unable to reply, Dayo simply stared, open mouthed.

 

Big Bosi shifted his eyes to Bård. “And you…. I wondered what happened to you. I have to say, you and your brother have been a huge pain in the ass. I was beginning to think that I wasn’t going to get paid for either one of you.” Big Bosi ordered him to his feet with a motion of his gun and then turned his attention back toward Dayo. “I don't understand how you could do this to me. I’ve treated you like one of my own. I’ve given you everything. How dare you steal from me!”

 

“I… I’m sorry. My brother was worried about me and... and you had so many hostages. I didn’t think that one more or less would really matter.”

 

“You're right, you didn't think, and now you've put me in a terrible position.”

 

Bård felt Dayo’s hand on his arm and before he understood what was happening, Dayo had pulled him away from the cupboards and into the middle of the room. Dayo was using him as a shield.

 

“Where is your brother?", Big Bosi continued.  "Is he back there?”

 

“Please don’t bring him into this. He’s just a kid, he didn’t have anything to do with this.”

 

“That’s not really true though, is it Dayo? Your brother was the one that delivered the package to Zinwa this morning. Clever of you to send someone that Zinwa had never seen before.”

 

“It wasn’t his idea. I made him do it. Don’t blame him for that.”

 

“Less clever that you didn’t send your brother in alone to the print shop as well. But then, you knew that Abram would never have made that print for someone he’d never seen before.” Big Bosi took a step closer. “You did bring him though, didn’t you. It was his “silent act” that made Abram feel like something was off. Still, you might have gotten away with it, if only you didn’t have that bum shoulder.”

 

Bård could feel Dayo’s chest rising and falling against his back. It felt like Dayo was near panic. Bård wondered if he might be able to break free.

 

“Big Bosi. I got shot protecting the camp. It was for you.”

 

“Do you really think it's wise to try to impress me with your loyalty right now?"

 

Bård tried to shrug Dayo off, but Dayo quickly tightened his grip, clenching Bård’s upper arms so tightly that they hurt.

 

"No... I guess not.” Dayo was breathing in short, shaky breaths. “But, I didn't mean to be disloyal.”

 

“You know a lot about my operation, don’t you Dayo? My secrets, my contacts.”

 

“Your secrets? Big Bosi, I'd never...”

 

“You even know the places I use for the ransom drop-offs. Which one did you choose?” As Big Bosi took another step closer, Dayo swiveled Bård so that he was still directly in between Dayo and his enraged boss.

 

“I'll tell you. But first, could we talk about how I can make this up to you?”

 

“Where are they dropping the ransom, Dayo?”

 

“You could send me to pick up the money. I mean, you don’t want to do that yourself. What if the police would show up?”

 

“Are you having them bring the ransom to Okpara Square?”

 

“No.” Dayo was breathing heavily, struggling to come up with something to appease Big Bosi. “I want to make this right. Please, what can I do?”

 

Bård would almost have enjoyed the way Big Bosi was making Dayo squirm, if he hadn’t been the one standing between them.

 

“Where?!? At Ogbete Market? Are they delivering it to the market square? Tell me now!”

 

“Yes. Yes, the market. Ogbete Market, at midnight. Please, let me help you.”

 

“Help me? What makes you think I need your help?”

 

“I… I… I don’t. I know you don’t _need_ me. It’s that… you… you really have been like a father to me. I just want another chance. Please.”

 

Big Bosi was slowly shaking his head. He seemed to be thinking over his options.

 

Bård tried again to wrench himself away from Dayo, but Dayo was clinging to him like a drowning man to a life raft.

 

“Please forgive me. I’ll do whatever you ask."

 

"There's nothing you can do for me."

 

"I could keep the hostage in line.”

 

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll be any trouble.”

 

Without further warning, there was a loud popping sound and Bård suddenly became aware of a sharp, stinging sensation. Was this what it felt like to get shot? Reflexively, he reached for his left arm. The warm, moistness of his shirt confirmed what he already knew and left him woozy.

 

Looking up at Big Bosi, all he could think was, “Why?” Before he could divine an answer, the hands that had been clinging to him so tightly, suddenly propelled him forward toward the armed man. Big Bosi easily pushed Bård back, as if he were swatting a fly. Already feeling off-balance, Bård fell to the floor, landing hard on his back.

 

As Bård lay on the floor, anxiously gasping for breath, he heard Big Bosi saying something about not needing a hostage and Dayo making a few more desperate pleas. And then, another gunshot. He opened his eyes and saw Dayo lying helplessly a few feet away, blood already spreading across his shirt.

 

“No!!” Gabriel entered the room. “Noooo!!” Despite Big Bosi’s gun, Gabriel ran to Dayo’s side and knelt next to his brother, tears streaming from his eyes. “Dayo. Can you hear me?”

 

Bård looked at his upper arm. Despite the pressure he was applying to the wound, his shirt was already soaked. _“Breathe. Stay calm. Focus on the one thing you need to do.”_ He heard Vegard speaking those words, almost as if he were right there beside him.

 

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’m sorry.” Dayo’s voice already sounded weak.

 

“Dayo. Just hang on we’ll get you to the hospital.” Gabriel looked at Big Bosi. “Have you called for the ambulance?”

 

Big Bosi simply stared back at the teenager, not even bothering to answer.

 

_“Stay calm.”_ Again, it was as if Vegard were there, talking to him.   _“A gunshot wound doesn’t have to incapacitate you.”_ Bård closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated on breathing.

 

“Gabriel. Stay in school. You’re going to do good things.” Dayo’s voice was beginning to fade.

 

“Stop talking like that. I’m going to call the ambulance.” Gabriel stood up to grab Dayo’s phone off the counter. He’d only taken a couple of steps before Bård heard another gunshot. Gabriel stopped in his tracks and Bård held his breath, just waiting for the teenager to fall. But instead, Gabriel turned back around and gasped. Confused, Bård’s eyes shot to Big Bosi and saw him standing emotionlessly, looking down, his gun still pointed at Dayo’s head.

 

“Noooo!!!” Gabriel’s cry came from deep in his chest. “Nooooo!!!” Gabriel threw himself at Big Bosi swinging wildly. “You’re a monster! You’re a monster!”

 

Big Bosi let Gabriel wear himself down a bit before grabbing the boy’s wrists. The large man easily forced Gabriel to stop hitting him. “He was going to die anyway,” he growled as he pushed Gabriel back a few steps.

 

“You don’t know that! You don’t _know_ that! You’re a bully and a coward! You don’t care about anyone!!”

 

_“Focus on the one thing you need to do.”_ A bright spot on the floor, just under the closest kitchen chair, caught Bård’s attention. He could only see it out of the corner of his eye because of his position on the floor, but he was almost certain that it was Dayo’s gun.

 

"You should think before you speak." Big Bosi approached Gabriel causing the boy to back away until he’d backed into the wall.

 

In spite of being trapped, Gabriel threw his shoulders back and lashed out again. “You’re a murderer!!” Even through his tears, the teen managed to spit out the words in a hatefilled growl.

 

Big Bosi reacted immediately, striking Gabriel with his gun and sending him to his knees. “You don’t know anything about me. Not a thing! I cared about your brother. I helped him. I helped _you_!"

 

Bård could hear Gabriel quietly sobbing, but all he could see was Big Bosi 's back as he loomed threateningly over the teen.

 

Big Bosi continued his rant, complaining about all the selfish, ungrateful people he’d helped over the years. Bård was finding it more and more difficult to follow. He closed his eyes wishing the man would shut up already. His body felt a little like it was floating and he wondered if he was about to pass out. Considering the most likely ending to all of this, passing out might not be so bad.

 

“And what did I get in return? Betrayal! I couldn’t ignore that. What would my other guards have thought?”

 

Bård forced himself to open his eyes. He needed to stay awake.Taking a quick glance at Big Bosi, he still saw nothing but the man’s broad back. Painfully he shifted himself to his right so that he could reach under the chair. Keeping his eyes fixed on the armed man, he felt around until he found Dayo’s gun. He was surprised by the weight of it as he brought it back to his chest.

 

Bård could barely see Gabriel through Big Bosi’s legs. The teen was still on his knees and whimpering as the larger man continued to tower over him and rail over Dayo’s disloyalty. Painfully, Bård rolled to his left side. He managed to keep from rolling onto his wound, but only by using that arm to steady himself. He was about to aim the gun when the words  _“take off the safety”_ came to him. Silently thanking his brother he began again. He could only use his right arm, so he locked his elbow and rested his hand and the handle of the gun on his knee. Even so the gun was shaking quite a bit. The reality of the situation suddenly hit him and Bård wondered, could he really shoot the man? When he looked back across the room, Big Bosi’s gun was pointed at Gabriel’s head.

 

“I can’t let you live. I can’t trust you enough to work for me, and I certainly can’t trust you enough to set you free.”  

 

There was no more time to think about it. Gabriel had saved his life. He couldn’t just sit by and let this man kill Gabriel too. He pulled the trigger. He knew that the gun would kick back but he wasn’t strong enough to hang on to it. The gun flew back and out of his hand, landing somewhere under the kitchen table. Bård’s whole body was shaking. From what he could see, Big Bosi hadn’t even flinched at the gun shot. He must have missed. Big Bosi began to turn around as Bård tried to inch on his back toward the gun. He would never get to it in time. The large man took a step, looking as if he were about to say something, and then dropped to the floor. Bård watched, anticipating some movement, but Big Bosi stayed down.

 

Gabriel was sitting on his heels with tears running down his cheeks. Blood was in his hair and running down his face from being pistol whipped.

 

“Move his gun.” Bård had no idea if Big Bosi was dead or just injured. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d shot him, but if Big Bosi were to wake, Bård didn’t want the gun to be anywhere within his reach.

 

When Gabriel didn't respond, he tried to say it a bit louder. “Gabriel, the gun!"

 

The boy became alert and kicked the gun away from the larger man. For a moment, Gabriel looked at his brother lying motionless on the floor, and then he turned to Bård. “You’re going to be ok.” He grabbed the phone off of the counter and hurried away.

 

Bård's eyes followed Gabriel until he couldn't see him any more. He wasn't sure where Gabriel had gone, but he didn't feel like he had enough energy to call out and ask him.

 

Gabriel quickly returned with towels and began to apply pressure to his wound. The teen was on the phone, asking for help, and giving his address. And every few seconds Gabriel bent closer and said something encouraging.

 

Bård closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He’d done the one thing. Hopefully, Vegard would have been proud. He could hear Gabriel talking, but he couldn’t make sense of it anymore.

 

* * *

  

Vegard watched the lights fly past his window as he sat in a daze in the back seat.

 

The kidnappers never showed up. They’d waited until 12:20 am before Detective Contee called it. _“Never seen this before.” “What in the world would be more important than picking up that kind of cash?”_ He’d listened to the rest of them as they tried to make sense of it, unable to put his own thoughts into sentences.

 

The siren of Contee’s car echoed the scream that was building up inside of him. Calle was close behind the detective’s lit up vehicle, speeding them through Enugu in the dark of night.

 

He had already known that it was bad, even before the call came over Contee’s radio. There was no way the kidnapper wouldn’t show, not unless something had gone wrong. But still he hadn’t been prepared when Contee relayed the message, “There’s been a shooting. Multiple victims. One Caucasian.” It had taken place recently, within the last hour, in some house in the northern part of Enugu. That was all Contee knew.

 

Of course, they didn’t know for sure that Bård was involved. But Vegard knew. He knew something had happened. He’d felt it.

 

When they finally pulled up to the hospital, Detective Contee parked his car in a no-parking zone and Calle followed suit. Vegard managed to crawl out of the back seat and right himself on his crutches before Calle had even gotten himself out of the vehicle. Despite his current disability, he pretty much ran into the building ahead of everyone, including Detective Contee.

 

Not seeing anyone else in authority, he went straight to the admissions desk. “I’m looking for my brother. He was brought in here... I think... tonight. I don’t know if he’s … I don’t know... where he is.”

 

The woman calmly looked back at him as if he were acting perfectly normally. “What is your brother’s name?”

 

“Bård. Bård Ylvasåker.”

 

“Ok… Umm... “ She squinted at her computer screen, her fingers guiding her from one window to the next.

 

Vegard’s words continued to come out in short bursts. “He would have been brought in recently. He’s a little taller than me.…lighter hair, though… than mine, I mean… and blue eyes…. I guess he wouldn’t have had any ID……. There was a shooting.”

 

“Oh… the shooting? The one that just came in?”

 

Vegard nodded. Calle came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “What have you found out?”

 

“She’s looking.”

 

“Yes… let me see………”

 

Vegard wanted to grab the screen and turn it so he could read it himself, but he managed to contain himself.

 

“I think I’ve found him. Someone identified this patient as… as… uh, Bored? Is that right?”

 

“Yeah. Where is h…”

 

“Yes. He’s been taken to surgery. I’m not sure when we can update you but I’ll have Doris here take you to the surgical waiting room and I’ll let them know that the patient has a family member waiting for news.”

 

A teenage girl, who appeared to be some kind of nurses’ aid, took a small slip of paper from the woman at the admissions desk and began to guide them to the other side of the hospital.

 

When they got to the small waiting room, it was empty. Vegard sat down and looked around, surprised to discover that Calle was the only one with him. “Where’s Tom, and Contee?”

 

“Tom told you…” Calle stopped and started over, “Tom is calling Mikael and Ngozi to tell them what’s happening. And he needs to get in touch with his partner and TVNorge. Contee was going to talk to the officers who responded to the shooting to find out more information.”

 

“Oh.” Vegard looked around the sterile waiting room and wondered how many other families had sat in this very room, waiting for news, waiting to see if their lives were about to change.

 

“Can I get you anything?”

 

After a few seconds, Vegard’s mind registered Calle’s question. He turned to see his friend, sitting next to him. There was comfort in having his friend there. Someone he’d known for so long. Someone who loved his brother almost as much as he did. “No. No I just… I’m glad you’re here Calle.”

 

Calle nodded and answered in all seriousness, “Where else would I be?”

 

 

* * *

 

The surgeon had spoken to him a while ago. Bård had made it through surgery and was expected to recover. Vegard’s hackles were raised when the doctor said that Bård’s wound wasn’t as serious as it could have been. He felt like the doctor was a bit disappointed and would have preferred something that was a little more of a challenge. However, he was relieved when the doctor went on to say that there was no reason Bård couldn’t regain most of his range of motion after some physical therapy.

 

Of course, the bullet wound wasn’t Bård’s only issue. He was dehydrated and borderline malnourished. He had two broken ribs and a laceration on his foot that was infected. They would be putting him on IV antibiotics to prevent an infection in his arm, which should take care of the infection in his foot as well.

 

And with that, the surgeon had left, promising to send a nurse “right away” to take him to his brother. Unfortunately, "right away" must mean something different in Nigeria and it fell to Calle to try to keep him sane over the next twenty five minutes.   

 

So now, as Vegard followed the nurse down the hall, he was silently encouraging her to pick up the speed. “I have gotten pretty good on the crutches. You needn’t hold back for me.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry Mr. Yulesacker. I’m not in a rush.”

 

Vegard rolled his eyes. He didn’t care that she wasn’t in a rush, he was! With great effort, he managed to hold his tongue. These people were taking care of his brother, he wanted to stay on their good side.

 

The nurse stopped just outside a door. “Now, he’s behind that first curtain to the left. You can sit with him, but he’s still going to be asleep for a while. We’ll keep him here until we’re sure he’s stable. Then we can move him to a private room.”

 

Vegard was nodding and trying to listen, but it was difficult when all he could see, other than a few curtains, were his brother’s blanket-covered feet. “Yes. Thank you for taking such good care of him. Do you think I could see him now?” Without waiting for the answer, Vegard moved swiftly past the nurse, through the doorway and into the first curtained area to his left.

 

Even though he had just seen a recent photo of Bård, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. The bruises and swelling spoke loudly of countless abuses and Bård looked even thinner than he had in the photo. But his overarching emotion was relief. Bård was there. He was injured, but he was alive. Vegard was certain that his brother would get through this. He was going to make sure of that.

 

"Bård." Vegard leaned his crutches hastily against the wall and gently touched his brother's hand. He understood that Bård wouldn't wake up immediately, but he needed to have some contact with his brother. “Bård. I’m here.” He leaned in closer. “I’m with you. You're safe now.” Vegard wanted to tell his brother so many things but he just didn't know where to start.

 

After a few minutes Vegard relaxed. It was such a relief just to be together. He found himself rambling about how relieved their family was and telling him about things that had happened bouncing randomly from one thing to the next. And then he remembered. "So, ah... I guess this doesn't count exactly, since you're still under anesthesia and all, but I did mean to tell you I loved you, before they separated us. I mean... you mean a lot to me Bård. I hope you know that."

 

Vegard sat and looked at Bård's his hand, knowing he should be satisfied that they were finally together but, longing to hear his brother's  voice.  "I do realize that you can't help it but.....way to leave a brother hanging, Bård."

 

A minute later Bård began to stir and started mumbling something.

 

* * *

 

Odd beeping sounds and an occasional uncomfortable pressure on his upper arm were the first things that entered Bård’s consciousness. He could also feel pressure on both wrists and he felt the panic of being tied down. "Help me. Help me." Even in his confused state he could hear that his words were garbled.

 

"You're ok. You're safe now."

 

Bård struggled to open his eyes. He wasn't sure where he was or why. The sense of being tied down was overwhelming and he began pulling at his constraints. “Nooo... get these off. Get these off,” he mumbled.

 

Whoever was with him took his hands and tried to keep him from clawing at his wrists. “It’s alright. Leave those on.”  The voice was so gentle, so kind. Why wasn’t this person helping him?

 

“Noooo! Get these off! I want them off!!” He managed to break free and started ripping at the bandages more wildly. “Help me!”

 

“Bård, look at me. Look at me. You’re not tied up.”

 

Opening his eyes, he tried to focus.

 

“You’re not tied up.”

 

The voice was so familiar. “Help me,” he begged.

 

“Alright. Calm down. Let me get them off then. Hold still.”

 

He could feel the constraint being removed.

 

“Look. You have some stitches here, see?”

 

It was Vegard. Vegard would help him. “I don’t want to be tied down,” he whispered. He heard what he knew to be his brother’s sigh. He’d know that sigh anywhere. He’d been the cause of the majority of them.

 

“Ok. Give me your other wrist.”

 

The constraint was gently removed from his other wrist. He was free.

 

“See. Your wrist is injured. That’s why it was wrapped up. But you’re not tied to the bed.”

 

Bård nodded. Vegard was there. He closed his eyes again. He was so tired.

 

“I guess that’s all you wanted, huh? Going to sleep already?”

  
Vegard was there. They were safe. He could sleep.

 

* * *

 

The smell was unmistakable, as were the sounds -  the beeps of monitors, air moving in and out of the blood pressure cuff, the muffled activity in the hall. He was in a hospital. The events of his captivity came back to him, as did his foggy memory of Vegard being at his bedside and taking off his bandages. “Vegard?”

 

“Bård. Did you say something?”

 

That was not his brother. His eyes fluttered open and when they came into focus he recognized his companion. "Calle?"

 

"Yeah, it's me. Just lay back and relax, you're going to be fine."

 

Calle was at his bedside. Bård tried to wrap his head around that information. It should be good news, but something was wrong. Where was Vegard? Bård looked down at his wrists. Both of his wrist were neatly bandaged. How could it be? Vegard had helped him… he’d taken them off. 

 

But, of course, he hadn't. The bandages were on his wrists. It had been a dream.  "No!" His voice was weak and raspy. It had just been a dream, a fucking dream.  "Nooooo.” He buried his face into his hands, making no effort to hold back his tears.

 

"Bård it's ok, you're safe."

  
If Vegard were alive, he'd be here, not Calle. Vegard was dead and it was his fault. His tears turned into sobs. He couldn’t listen to Calle. He didn’t deserve to be consoled.

 

* * *

  

Vegard felt something bounce off of his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he saw a small tissue box on the floor and reasoned that it had hit his shoulder before landing in that position.

 

"Hey! Wake up, Lazy." Calle sounded a bit desperate.

 

He sat up and tried to shake the sleep out of his mind.

 

"Wake up! He needs you."

 

Vegard looked toward Calle and became aware that his brother was crying. "Thanks, Calle"  

 

He hurried to his brother’s side. “Bård. Calm down. I’m here." He wrapped his arms around his sobbing brother. "Shhhh. You’re safe now."

 

“Vegard?” Bård took his hands away from his face and looked up at him.

 

Vegard felt the echo of countless times when Bård had looked at him that way. “I’m right here.”

 

“But my wrists. I thought it was all a dream.”

 

Vegard immediately understood. “I know. I know.” He winced. “They weren’t too happy that I had taken the bandages off, so they rebandaged them right away.” Vegard held Bård’s hand in his own. “But you’re not tied down. You have to trust me, you’re safe here.”

 

“I just can’t believe you’re here.”

 

“Well, of course I'm here. I was just sleeping on the couch. Calle sort of insisted.”

 

“It’s just that…”

 

“I promised you that I’d be here, right?”

 

“Mm hmm.”  A small sob slipped out and Bård covered his mouth as if he were trying to keep some more from escaping.

 

Not knowing what else to say, Vegard leaned down and pulled him into another hug. “It’s alright. I know it’s overwhelming.”

 

Bård buried his face in Vegard’s neck and hugged him with whatever strength he had. “I’m just so glad you’re ok.”

 

Vegard was beginning to appreciate just how worried Bård had been. “Back at you.”

 

Eventually, Vegard could feel that Bård had relaxed a bit and his breathing evened out, but his younger brother’s hand remained clamped onto the back of his shirt, as if to prevent him from leaving. Smiling, Vegard leaned back to look into his brother’s eyes and chuckled affectionately. “You can hang on to my shirt if you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Bård let go, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s just that sometimes when we’re in Africa, you wander off without me.”

 

“I didn’t wander off, I was following a lizard. I think that’s an important distinction to make.”

 

“I don’t think Mom thought much of that distinction.”

 

“That’s because she's never liked lizards. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. I don’t think there are any lizards in this hospital.”

  
“Let’s hope not.” Bård smiled. It was a small, crooked smile, colored with so many other emotions, from fear to hope, but it was a smile. Vegard smiled back and felt a bit of the weight that he’d been carrying around for the past couple of months slide off his shoulders.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh.... Now we can all relax. Nollywood Bård is safe. (And by "we" I mostly mean me. Now I can relax.) I won't even attempt to explain why this chapter took so long, I'm not even totally sure why, but I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> I plan on writing at least one more chapter, but I may write a new AotB chapter first. Not sure. 
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to read this and for all of your encouragement. I love to hear from you! <3<3


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